The Hunted
by Poisonedtree
Summary: Betrayed by her employer, Nadia spends four years in a North Korean prison. After escaping, Nadia arrives in California looking for answers and revenge. When a chance encounter in Charming with the Sons of Anarchy complicates everything, Nadia struggles to compromise her quest for revenge with something she has never had a chance for...love.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own the Sons of Anarchy or any of its characters/dialogue. OC characters and themes such as Nadia and the firm belong to me as well as my writing. Disclosure applies to posted chapter and following.

Chapter 1:

Nadia sat quietly at the bar of a small diner in Charming. Her figure was slumped forward over the counter. She was a relatively small woman but her muscles were toned from years of hard labor. She wore a black pencil skirt and a blue silk blouse, buttoned low, revealing an intricate tattoo that reached out from her right shoulder up her neck. Her black pumps tapped the floor rhythmically. She ran a hand through her dark brown hair, sweeping it out of her way.

She had been driving for nearly seventy-two hours and her exhaustion was becoming nearly incapacitating. Taking a deep breath, Nadia pushed herself off the counter, focusing on the coffee in front of her. She had been sitting in the diner for over an hour trying to decide on her next move. A larger town would definitely offer more anonymity but she had been careful. It was next to impossible anyone knew she was alive. Plus, her identity and record were clean. The last place anyone would be looking for her was in the United States, if they were even looking for her at all.

At 10:30 a.m., the diner was nearly empty except for a young waitress and two women in the booth behind her. The women were leaned over, talking in hushed tones with serious looks on their faces. Occasionally one of them would raise their voice in agitation, only to be shushed by the other. Nadia could make out just enough of the conversation to hear their names: Gemma and Tara. Gemma, the older of the two women, was rubbing Tara's arm in a soothing manner. It was obvious that the women were close and Nadia felt a pang of jealousy as she watched the interaction. Nadia had never been particularly affectionate but after four years of being in a North Korean prison, she found that she craved contact.

A loud crash interrupted Nadia's thoughts. Jerking her head in the direction of the noise, Nadia saw the waitress practically fly out of the back door of the restaurant. A broken coffee pot was left in her wake, liquid poured across the tile. Confused as to what would have frightened the girl, Nadia turned her head back towards the front of the restaurant.

Three large men were standing within the threshold of the door. They were dressed nearly identically: wife beaters and jeans with short haircuts. All three were sporting a hodgepodge of trashy Neo-Nazi tattoos, placed haphazardly on their arms and necks.

'Assholes,' Nadia thought as she shifted her attention back to her coffee, trying to ignore the men. They clearly had a reputation if their mere presence had sent the waitress scurrying away in fear but she hoped they weren't planning on causing any trouble _today_. She needed to lay low and didn't want her plans to be ruined by a bunch of racist thugs.

"Well look what we have here..."

The largest of the three men began to saunter slowly towards the booth behind her. The other two men looked at Nadia for a split second, sizing her up. Clearly deciding she wasn't a threat, they began to move closer to Gemma and Tara. 'Idiots,' Nadia thought. Thugs, especially small-town thugs, always seemed to underestimate women. It was their mistake though, a mistake that Nadia had learned to capitalize on in years past.

The man took a seat across from Gemma and Tara, propping his feet up in a relaxed manner. Nadia watched out of the corner of her eye as the two women tensed, visibly afraid.

'Lay low' Nadia repeated to herself.

"Two _Ole Lady's_, all by themselves…" The last word was drawn out in a menacing tone.

"Get lost," Gemma spat, venom and hatred clear in her voice. Nadia risked looking over her shoulder at the woman, impressed by her tone. Her face was fierce and angry but her hands were shaking under the table. She was definitely scared.

'God damn it', Nadia thought, 'just lay low and keep your mouth shut'.

The man let out a low chuckle that had Nadia's hands clenching painfully. The man's demeanor suddenly became very serious as he shifted in the booth. Putting his feet on the ground, the man pulled a gun out from underneath his shirt.

"You know I think I preferred you chained up…I know the others did."

'Shit,' Nadia thought as a powerful surge of anger shook her small frame. Nadia had seen a lot of awful things in her life to be angry at but she always felt particularly enraged when people picked on those who were weaker and less capable to defend themselves. It was cowardly and inexcusable in her book. Realizing there was no way she could walk away from the situation now, Nadia turned slightly to get a better look at the three men.

They seemed to be in decent shape but Nadia had been up against worse. Plus, she was fairly confident she had more training and experience than all three men combined. The two men who were standing behind the booth were definitely armed, evident by the small bulge under their shirts. Nadia almost rolled her eyes; why men ever thought it was a good idea to put a gun down the front of their pants was beyond her. They were all close enough together that she was confident she could take control of the situation if she could just get the gun that was currently aimed at the two women. Gently sliding off her heels, Nadia slowed her breathing and glanced behind her one last time.

In one quick motion, Nadia turned around and was off the chair. Reaching forward, Nadia easily pulled the gun from his hands and slammed his head forcefully with the butt of the gun. The man fell forward and Nadia grabbed his left arm, twisting it until she heard a loud 'snap'. Keeping pressure on his dislocated arm, Nadia trained the gun on the other two men. 'Amateurs' Nadia thought, seeing the look of surprise on their faces.

"You stupid bitch!" the man screamed, his words muffled by the table.

God she really hated that word, she thought as she leaned in with even more force on his arm. Nadia turned her head slightly towards the other two women, careful to never take her eyes off the two standing men.

"Run" Nadia told the women, trying to keep her voice as gentle as possible.

Gemma started to say something but Nadia cut her off.

"Go."

Her voice was angrier this time, her Russian accent becoming more noticeable. The other two men were armed and she didn't want to risk Gemma and Tara getting caught in any crossfire. With one last look, Gemma grabbed Tara's arm and pulled her out of the diner.

"That was a mistake sweetheart. We will find you, there isn't anywhere for you to hide."

"Can't wait," Nadia replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Did all thugs read the same "how to be a douche bag" manual or something?

The two men exchanged a quick look, giving away their decision to try and draw.

"Ah, I promise I'm faster," Nadia threatened, raising one eyebrow. She was an expert shot and had a serious advantage already having a gun out, particularly considering the fact that their guns were stuffed in their pants. They couldn't really be _that _stupid?

'Yep, that stupid,' Nadia thought as she saw both men reach forward under their shirts. Before either of them even had time to pull their guns out, she pulled the trigger twice, easily taking them both out.

"You stupid BITCH!"

The man she had disarmed screamed and threw all of his weight towards her. The motion sent her flying back into the counter, the gun falling to the ground. Her back snapped violently against the hard surface as the man launched himself towards her. Reaching back, Nadia fumbled for some sort of weapon as she felt his hands wrap around her neck.

Just as Nadia felt the edges of her vision begin to blur, her hand made contact with something solid. Hoping like hell it was something heavy, Nadia brought it forward as hard as she could, slamming the object into his face. Glass shattered and sent hot coffee everywhere, causing him to scream in agony and release her neck.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Nadia slammed her foot into his knee, hearing a satisfying crack. Launching forward, Nadia swung with all her effort, her fist connecting with his jaw. Still clutching his face in pain, he swung his arm wildly, sending Nadia flying back into the wall. A picture frame shattered onto the ground as she slammed into the hard surface. She looked up to see the man taking deep breaths, bent over a bar stool. Hearing glass shift behind her, Nadia calmly reached behind her back. Grasping a large shard of glass, Nadia watched as the man turned his attention back on her.

Thinking she was giving up, he moved towards her with a renewed arrogance.

"Should have stayed out of it bitch." The man was practically on top of her now, his breath hot on her neck.

"You should learn some manners," Nadia replied, jabbing the glass as hard as she could into his upper body.

Throwing her weight forward, Nadia grabbed his dislocated arm and threw him behind her into the wall. Keeping a firm hand on the piece of glass, Nadia pressed all of her weight into his arm. He began to struggle, spewing angry curses at her.

"You wil-"

The man abruptly stopped Just as a loud thrum of engines began to fill the diner. Jerking his head in the direction of the sound, his eyes widened slightly. Nadia had seen fear enough in her life to recognize it when it was sitting in front of her. Curious, Nadia leaned back slightly to look out the window.

Three men on motorcycles had just pulled up and were quickly dismounting their bikes. They wore leather cuts and had a wild look about them, like outlaws from another time. One of the men, a blonde in his late twenties or so, grabbed Tara in a quick hug before pushing her behind him. Gemma pointed a finger in the direction of the diner, waving her other arm frantically at the blonde.

The biker looked at Gemma for a second before nodding and turning to shout something over his shoulder at the other two. The men began to pull guns out and move towards the door. 'Not good' Nadia thought realizing how easy it would be for her to accidentally get shot. She really, really hated getting shot and wasn't about to risk it because of some white separatist that didn't know his head from his ass. Deciding she better wrap it up, she turned her attention back to the man she had pinned against the wall.

"Time to go" Nadia purred as she leaned all her weight away from him and thrust him towards the nearest window. Glass went flying in all directions as his body hurtled through the window, landing on the street with a thud. Leaning down, Nadia picked up her heels, slipping them back on before walking towards the window.

Nadia kept her eyes pinned on the man as she moved out of the window frame, glass crunching beneath her heels. Careful to keep him in her line of sight, Nadia turned slightly towards the bikers. They were frozen, looks of bewilderment and amusement clear on their faces. A small laugh escaped her lips as one of the men turned around to look at another with a look that said 'what the fuck'.

A loud groan brought her attention back to the task at hand. Nadia walked slowly over to the man, letting her hips sway gently as she focused on her prey. Bending down carefully, she patted him gently on the chest as if reassuring him.

"Now, if you ever go anywhere near those two women again."

Nadia paused a minute, letting her words sink in.

"I will gut you from head to fucking toe." Nadia finished, practically snarling the words.

"I will kill you, you stupid whore," the man groaned, rolling over onto his side clutching his arm.

"You'll have to get in line," Nadia replied dryly as she stood up, brushing her skirt off.

"You guys ok?" Nadia asked, turning towards Gemma and Tara, trying to ignore the ridiculous looks the three bikers were giving her. It was pretty obvious they weren't used to a woman who could handle herself physically and even less used to one that didn't look like she was built like a Mac truck. Plus, with her slight accent and the almost non-existent population of a town like Charming, she already stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Yea thanks to _you_," Gemma said, emphasizing the last word. The woman walked forward and stuck her hand out waiting for a handshake.

"Not a problem," Nadia replied, taking the woman's hand firmly.

"You got a name?" Gemma asked. She was looking her up and down.

"Nadia."

"Well Nadia, I'm Gemma, this is Tara," she replied, turning her head towards the younger woman.

"And my son Jax," She gestured to one of the three men standing next to her.

Nadia looked over at Jax, eyeing him carefully. She froze as she saw the Sons of Anarchy patch clearly visible on his cut. 'Well I'll be damned,' Nadia thought, trying to decide what the implications were. She had done some work for a chapter of the Sons in Ireland over ten years ago, back when she was still freelancing. She knew they had a charter somewhere in California, but she hadn't expected it to be in a town this size. If anyone realized the connection, it might blow her chances at anonymity. The chances were pretty slim though that anyone could even draw that connection. She had been hired for a single hit, done her job and left. She had only ever met one guy, an elderly gentleman, and he was probably dead. At the very least, he wasn't making regular trips to California. Her criminal record was clean and no reports of her having been in the area would exist.

"They are going to come looking for you now, you know?" Jax said. It was clear he was concerned from the way he tilted his head to the side, his eyes softening.

"I'll be fine," Nadia replied, shrugging indifferently. Nadia knew how to survive. Those guys were almost harmless compared to the kinds of people she was used to dealing with. She could handle whatever they threw her way.

A police siren wailed in the distance. 'So much for being careful,' Nadia thought as she glanced in the direction of the noise.

Turning back towards Jax, Nadia caught the eye of one of the bikers. She stopped, settling her gaze on him. She was surprised by the intensity in his eyes. There was a darkness to them that reminded her of her own, a darkness that came from years of killing and hard survival. He was tall, muscular and covered in ink; sexy as hell but definitely not traditionally handsome. In fact, Nadia was willing to bet most women were afraid of him, whether they got in bed with him or not.

Nadia became vaguely aware of someone talking while she continued to stare at the biker. It had been a_ very_ long time since she was with a man and she was overwhelmed by the flood of need and lust coursing through her body.

"Opie." Nadia heard as Gemma cleared her throat loudly.

Reluctantly, Nadia shifted her attention towards the biker in the middle. "Opie" he repeated, holding out his hand. Shaking it gently, Nadia paused for a second before looking back at the last biker.

"And you?" Nadia asked, inclining her head in his direction.

He smiled slowly as a dark raspy voice filled Nadia's ears, sending shivers down her spine.

"Happy."

Nadia nodded, a small smile barely reaching her lips. The police sirens were close now, maybe half a mile away.

"Don't worry," Gemma said, noting the way her expression had changed earlier when the police sirens had started.

"It was self-defense; we will get you out before the day is over." Gemma nodded. The woman seemed overly confident; it was clear they had serious pull in the town.

Nadia wasn't worried about the charges, though. The guy lying in the road had drawn first and the other two men were going to draw. There was a clear threat and she knew the two women and the evidence would back her up. Her identity would hold most likely, unless Charming PD had ties with the North Koreans or her former employer. Private intelligence firms didn't exactly cozy up with local police forces though. Regardless she had hoped to lay low, stay off the radar just _in case_ anyone had become suspicious. Buy her time while she looked for Sam. She had a lead that might guide in her in the right direction but wasn't sure if it would pan out. Plus, she was reluctant to spend any more time in a cell.

"Can't we do anything else? You just earned yourself a target on your back to help out my old lady and my ma." Jax asked, searching her eyes for an answer.

"Nah, it was worth getting to see the look on that assholes face when I threw him through the window." Nadia replied, smiling. Regardless of what happened, she didn't regret what she had done. These guys didn't owe her anything.

All three men broke into genuine smiles. Gemma laughed softly and Tara seemed to relax a little, although she still seemed on edge. It was pretty obvious Tara wasn't used to this kind of stuff.

"How about dinner?" Gemma stepped closer to place a hand on Nadia's shoulder. She didn't make a habit out of inviting strangers into her home and she could tell the others were surprised. Gemma wasn't known for her trusting nature. But there was something about Nadia, she had a look that spoke of pain and loneliness but was feisty and determined at the same time. It was clear to Gemma that Nadia was a survivor, something she could admire in another woman. She was grateful for what the woman had done and she wanted to repay her in some way.

Nadia considered the offer as she tried not to tense at Gemma's hand on her shoulder. They might become curious but it would only be out of an effort to protect the club. There was no way their business was _above board_, she doubted these men would care about her past. _If_ the firm actually found out she was alive, Charming would be as safe a place as any. In reality, the small town might actually end up being the safest place to be. It would be hard for a hit to go unnoticed in a town this small. She liked to be independent but if she made friends, it would bring the firm attention if she went missing. They would have to risk exposure to come after her in Charming. It wouldn't stop them but it might give her enough time to find Sam and take them down, once and for all. Not to mention with the way Gemma was looking at her, she seriously doubted that no would be an acceptable answer.

"Ok," Nadia agreed. She heard the screeching of brakes behind her and turned to see two cop cars pull in front of the diner.

'Here we go,' Nadia thought, cringing at the idea of being in a cell again, even if it was only temporary.

"See you boys later," Nadia said, putting her hands up. Unable to resist, Nadia looked at Happy one last time. She almost smiled when she saw the expression on his face. He had this crazy look, a mixture of anger and lust. Like he couldn't decide if he wanted to rip the cops limb from limb or take her right there in the street. 'Yep' Nadia thought, confirming her earlier suspicions. Most women, and men, would definitely be afraid of this man. She wasn't afraid though, she had grown out of being afraid of death and men a long time ago. She was willing to kill when she needed to, willing to protect those that needed protecting, willing to do what she had to. She wasn't the kind of girl that looked for sweet and gentle. She liked passion and heat. She liked a man that fought for what mattered, that didn't give two shits when the law got in the way. And Happy? Happy was definitely that kind of man.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Nadia looked up at the police station, letting her head rest gently against the backseat window. Her legs were crossed, her foot tapping impatiently as she considered the building. It looked old; its paint fading from years of neglect. An errant vine snaked up the side of the structure, obscuring the yellow brick beneath it. Nadia let her eyelids fall closed as she waited for Unser to let her out.

The police chief shifted uncomfortably in the front seat before turning to look at her.

"Sorry…it's just a formality. You'll be free to go as soon as the story clears." His voice was gravelly, like had had been smoking a pack a day since he was ten. He nodded apologetically, waving his hand over his head dismissively as he got out of the car.

'Somebody really has this guy by the balls,' Nadia thought, noting his unease as he walked her inside. The guy was practically jumping out of his own skin. She almost felt bad for him. He looked like he should be retired and playing golf somewhere.

Unser guided her through the police station towards the holding cells. He sighed loudly as he gestured towards an empty cell. He was smiling politely but his expression looked significantly more haggard than carefree as he pulled the door closed behind her. It clicked shut loudly, the noise reverberating through the small holding area.

"Guy had a warrant so…should clear itself up"

"No worries," Nadia replied, giving him a small smile. Once he was gone, Nadia sat down on the cot against the farthest cell wall. Why not get a nap out of the whole mess?

Two men were in the cell directly across from her, both wearing leather kuttes like she had seen earlier. 'Must be more Sons,' Nadia thought, 'looks like they aren't too good at staying out of trouble'.

She watched as one of the men paced the cell. He had grey hair and rough look about him. The word 'president' was sewn into the front of his kutte. The other guy said something to him, provoking a nasty look but he quit pacing and sat down. His cell partner had dark curly hair, piled messily atop his head. She couldn't see the patches on his kutte clearly but his eyes would have been visible from a mile away. They were a disarming shade of blue; an attribute that didn't reconcile with his threatening demeanor. There was definitely something _off_ about this guy, pretty eyes or not.

"What you in here for honey?" he asked, moving to lean against his cell door.

Nadia looked up and had to bite back a laugh. She didn't miss the way he was staring suggestively at her chest.

"Keep looking at my chest like that? And it'll be the last thing you look at, _honey." _ Nadia answered, letting the word 'honey' roll slowly over her tongue.

His mouth hung open in shock for a second before quickly kicking up in a smirk. She couldn't tell if he was amused, angry or just aroused. Either way, he was definitely not used to being turned down. She was willing to bet that leather cut-off had women swooning at his feet. The club president was laughing heartily, buckled over in amusement. He sobered slightly as a woman entered the holding area. Her heels clacked loudly on the concrete floor.

"Feisty isn't she?" the woman asked, looking at the two Sons. Her voice had an arrogant tone that set Nadia on edge immediately.

"I'd be careful though, she has bite to back her bark." The woman shifted her attention to Nadia.

"She shot two of Zobelle's men and threw another through a glass window…after dislocating his arm, stabbing him, and throwing a pot of coffee in his face." She walked towards Nadia's cell watching her closely. Stopping directly in front of it, she leaned forward until she was resting against the cell bars. A manila folder was tucked under her left arm.

"What can I say? He was persistent." Nadia met her stare directly, seeing the challenge in the woman's eyes. The arrogance combined with the pant suit meant this woman was definitely a fed. There was no way the feds were interested in her though, she was clean on paper. That meant this fed was looking for someone else. Considering she didn't know too many people in Charming, Nadia was willing to bet it was the Sons.

The woman laughed humorlessly and held out her hand, "Agent Stahl".

Ignoring the outstretched hand, Nadia turned her attention away from the fed. She didn't know what kind of game the woman was playing but she wasn't about to play along. Lying back down on the cot, Nadia tapped her fingers against the concrete cell wall.

"Nadia Burlachenko, naturalized citizen, security consultant…clean record," Agent Stahl mused as she tapped the folder in the palm of her hand.

"I like to stay out of trouble," Nadia replied, her tone even as she continued to tap the cell wall. Thank god she went with security consultant and not something like a kindergarten teacher or accountant as a cover. Sam had always said the best lies were those closest to the truth; guess he was right. Anything else _might_ have complicated an explanation of how she disarmed a man and threw him through a window…

"That OR you are very good at hiding it." Agent Stahl looked up, clearly expecting a reaction.

'You have no idea,' Nadia thought as shut her eyes, feigning boredom.

"Pretty heroic, stepping in front of a gun to save total strangers" Stahl continued. Her tone was skeptical; she was building up to something.

"Seemed like the nice thing to do," Nadia shot her an innocent look.

Stahl laughed. "Sure…risk your life, jump in front of a gun…because it was the_ nice_ thing to do?"

Stahl paused briefly. "To save two SAMCRO old ladies…"

"What!" The president of the Sons barked, standing up quickly. The other remained where he was but his posture became more alert, almost predatory.

'Gemma and Tara must really be important to these guys,' Nadia thought noting how quickly their demeanor had changed.

"Oh yes, some of Zobelle's men tried to attack Gemma and Tara, but this one…"

Agent Stahl pointed at Nadia.

"Saved them… took all three of his men out"

Nadia smiled coldly as she tried to hide her disdain for the federal agent. It was quickly becoming a painfully transparent conversation. Stahl was looking for a way to get at the club, hoping Nadia had, or would have, some exploitable connection. She didn't care about Nadia; she wanted leverage: a rat. The fed was looking for it in the wrong place though. Nadia was good at covering her ass and didn't know jack shit about the club.

Agent Stahl smirked. "Gemma and Tara back your story. You will be free to go in an hour or so."

"You two are free to go _now_," Agent Stahl turned on her heel, directing her attention to the two Sons in the cell across from her.

"ATF would like to apologize for any inconvenience," she added with a smug look on her face.

Nadia scoffed, she doubted that. She could tell this fight was personal for Stahl. These guys had done something to piss her off and she was out for blood now. There was no way Stahl was going to back off until these guys were behind bars. She was probably even willing to cross some serious legal and ethical lines to make it happen. She had seen people like Agent Stahl at work before; they didn't care who they hurt or what destruction they caused as long as they got to put the big bad guy away. Despite their crusade against the common criminal, they had no honor. They were sharks, waiting for injured prey.

Right on cue, a police officer came in and unlocked the Sons' cell, allowing the two men to walk out. Both men nodded their heads in her direction, a clear sign of respect. She returned the nod before standing up. Agent Stahl lingered, waiting for the Sons to be out of earshot.

"We'll be leaving Charming for now but..." Stahl paused.

Nadia raised her eyebrow. The fed was changing tactics. Her tone was no longer arrogant, she sounded almost concerned.

"If you are going to stick around in Charming, be careful with these guys." She jerked her head in the direction that the Sons had just exited.

'Damn, ATF must really be desperate to lay it on this thickly,' Nadia thought as she waited for Stahl to continue.

"Don't be fooled by the outlaws with purpose act. These are _bad _guys."

"Give me a call if anything seems…out of the ordinary." She handed Nadia a business card. Nadia waited until Stahl left before looking down at it. Flipping it over, haziness clouded her vision as a memory began to form in her mind.

_9 Years Ago:_

_Nadia rested her head against the window of the train, flipping the card over and over in her hand. A light flickered overhead as the train vibrated with effort, picking up speed as it pulled away from Moscow. She ran her thumb slowly across the black embossed ink on the front, "Jacob & Avakov: Consulting Firm". His words were on repeat in her head. Playing over and over as she considered the offer…_

_ "Like a spy?" Nadia had asked, giving the man an incredulous look. The guy was in his mid-thirties, thick, at least two heads taller than her. His voice was gruff, pitched low, an American accent easily discernible. _

"_Like a chance to be a part of something bigger, to have resources at your back…cut the head off the monster instead of hacking away blindly at its limbs…"_

_He had pulled out a business card, considering it for a second before handing it to her. _

"_Think about it, phone number and the offer both expire at midnight." _

_Nadia had looked at the front of the card for a second before flipping it over. _

"_Sam +7 095 105 004" was printed neatly on the back.  
_

* * *

_Later that day: _

Clay slammed his fist down on to the table with a resounding smack. His posture was tense, his shoulders hunched forward angrily.

"They threatened MY ole lady, MY queen," Clay said. His voice was muted but rage dripped from the words. He wanted blood, retaliation and a _lot_ of it.

"They are playin dirty, goin after our women."

"What do we do?" Opie asked. His voice was both direct and firm as he looked to Clay for an answer.

"As much as I would like to personally cut their hearts out, we finally got ATF off our backs. We retaliate and we are right back on their radar." Jax answered, not giving Clay a chance to respond. He had a bad feeling about it, that if they retaliated they'd be playing right into Zobelle's hands. The guy was smart, calculating, _protected._

"We don't just back down, let this slide." Clay said, pointing his finger angrily at Jax.

"I'm not _sayin _we back down Clay. I'm _sayin_ we are smart about this. We can't afford to fall short on our deal with the Irish…" Jax took a minute to look at each of the club members gathered at the table.

"We do the charity run tomorrow, get some cash and reevaluate." Jax finished.

The other Sons began to talk amongst themselves; a few nodding their heads in agreement.

"Seems best" Bobby said, shrugging his shoulder before looking at Clay.

Clay sat quietly for a moment before rolling his eyes angrily. He knew he had already lost the vote for retaliation.

"Fine," he huffed.

"What about the girl, today at the diner?" Chibs asked, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. His Scottish accent was thick, blending the words together.

"Gemma invited her over for dinner," Clay said sighing. "She checked out. Russian naturalized citizen, no family."

"Does some…." Clay gestured with his hand trying to think of the word. "Security consulting or something like that."

"They're gonna be looking for her," Juice said as he shifted forward onto his forearms.

"…we aren't a full-time perfection service," Bobby said hesitantly. Between Zobelle and the Mayans, resources were stretched thin.

"She doesn't seem to need our protection," Opie snorted.

"She saved Gemma and Tara's life, put her ass on the line" Jax said vehemently. He knew how much Nadia had risked stepping in, she might have shrugged it off but there was no way he was going to.

"This is our town. We don't protect her, it makes it look like Zobelle can come in and do whatever he damn well pleases." Piney said, choking over the last few words. He grasped his oxygen tank as he began to cough more violently.

"She handled Stahl well," Tig said, leaning back in his chair, considering the woman. She had been feisty but calm at the same time. Knew how to handle a situation. He liked her.

"True," Clay considered. He had watched Nadia carefully when Stahl approached her. Girl wasn't a rat. Didn't mean he trusted her though. He'd keep looking into her quietly.

"She is going to take a lot of heat for what she did Clay, the least we can do is watch out for her. It might even give us the leverage we need against Zobelle." Jax said.

"Alright _when _we can, we will watch her back" Clay said getting up from his chair. The woman had put her life on the line to protect his old lady. He knew they owed her but he wasn't going to sacrifice his club to do it.

"Dinner is at 7:30, I expect you _all_ to be there." He pointed a warning finger at each of the men.

"Give Hap a call, tell him to come." Clay inclined his head in Juice's direction before walking out of the room.

* * *

"You can sleep here for tonight" Gemma said, indicating the room Nadia was now standing in.

Nadia turned to protest but Gemma held her hand up.

"I saw the plates on the car, _Louisiana_. That's a long way, it's late, and there is only one motel in this town. Don't argue. Need to be careful." Gemma said. She respected what Nadia had done, knew her ass was on the line. She was going to do her best to make sure Nadia didn't pay for the favor.

Deciding it was best to let a woman like Gemma play the role of host, she just nodded. She wanted to get to work but she was exhausted. It was too late to follow her lead anyway; one night wouldn't make a difference.

"Thanks."

"No problem, shower is that way." She pointed at a closed door behind Nadia before backing out of the room.

"Dinner is at 7:30!" Gemma called over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.

Nadia collapsed backwards onto the bed, letting her eyes close. It felt good to be lying on an actual bed. For the last few days she had been taking short naps in the car; careful to never stop for too long. She couldn't even remember the last time she had the opportunity for a full night's sleep. As her body began to relax her thoughts drifted idly over the day's events. It wasn't an ideal situation but she could adapt. She always did. If the chapter was anything like the Sons back in Ireland, they took care of their own and placed a lot of value on family. As long as she didn't present a threat to that, she figured they would stay more grateful than curious. It was in her benefit to make friends, _not_ to have them snooping around in her business.

Her thoughts continued to wander, flipping lazily through details until settling on Happy. After a minute, Nadia reluctantly pushed him from her mind. She had to tread very carefully with Happy. With the feds looking into the club, she needed to keep enough distance from their illegal affairs. She couldn't let it jeopardize her end game: taking the firm down.

Her fists clenched painfully, her nails drawing blood, as she thought about her former employer. She had done four years in _hell_ because of them. They had taken everything from her and she was going to return the favor. There was no way she was going to let ATF, an MC, or even the entire Aryan Brotherhood stand in the way of that.

Eventually, Nadia felt her body begin to relax. Her mind went blank; the heavy weight of exhaustion overriding her anger. Within a few minutes, Nadia was fast asleep.

_A loud siren wailed in the distance as Nadia stumbled through thick forest. A heavy rain pelted her mercilessly as she shivered uncontrollably. Her feet were bleeding, leaving puddles of blood in her wake. Her ribs burned painfully as she tried to ignore the bone chattering cold. Her vision was hazy and her head heavy from blood loss._

_ If anyone realized her body was gone, she would never make it out of North Korea alive. There hadn't been a plan, no calculated escape. They had assumed she was dead and she nearly was, beaten unconscious. She had taken the opportunity presented to her, let adrenaline and instinct fuel her. _

_ She just needed to get the border, if she could get to South Korea, she would be okay. Nadia picked up her pace, refusing to be caught. White spots appeared in her field of vision as she ran at a grueling speed up a hill. _

Nadia jolted awake, her breathing heavy and labored. She was covered in a thin layer of sweat; a blanket tangled around her legs. Nadia tried to push the dream from her mind as her breathing slowed. Throwing the blanket off, she dangled her legs over the edge of the bed. She glanced up at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to her. Nadia hissed when she saw 9:30 in bright red letters reflected back at her. Straining her ears, Nadia could just barely make out muffled voices coming from downstairs. She had missed dinner but it sounded like at least some of the guys were still there.

With a sigh, Nadia walked towards the bathroom. Hastily Nadia discarded her clothing and stepped into the shower. Leaning against the shower wall, she let the warm water cascade over her body. The water traced a pattern down the length of her back, following a long scar before trickling down her legs. There were two faint lines on her right shoulder, invisible beneath her tattoo, and a small wound beneath her chest that had faded to be nearly non-existent.

The heat eased some of the tension as her mind gradually cleared. She didn't like to think about the past too much. Dwelling on memories wouldn't make them play out any differently. Her subconscious, however, clearly hadn't gotten the memo lately. There were probably a lot of people downstairs; she needed to pull it together. Nadia took a deep breath, allowing herself a final moment alone before getting out of the shower.

Nadia's fingers moved nimbly, quickly pulling her damp hair into a long loose braid. Grabbing her discarded clothes, Nadia got dressed. She had a change of clothing in the car but she hadn't expected to fall asleep so quickly. Buttoning her blouse, Nadia wandered into the hallway. As she neared the staircase she could hear two men talking loudly, their voices thick with good humor.

Rounding the corner, Nadia stopped. Jax and a guy she didn't recognize were talking animatedly at the bottom of the stairs. He was clearly a member of the MC but he looked young, less hardened than the others. He had a mohawk, tribal tattoos on either side. Tara stood behind them, leaned against the wall as she watched the exchange in quiet amusement. Her eyes were lively and she seemed more relaxed than Nadia remembered.

"Hey Nadia," Jax smiled, turning his head in her direction. An unlit cigarette hung limply in his mouth. Tara pushed off against the wall, giving Nadia a warm smile. Nadia watched as Tara walked closer to Jax, snuggling under his arm. They were a strange match but it was easy to see how happy they were together. She had a feeling they balanced each other out, kept each other sane.

"This is Juice," Jax gestured at the guy across from him.

Juice ran his hand across his mohawk, offering her a timid smile. He seemed jumpy, almost nervous as she approached.

"Hi," He waved backing up a few steps. Jax shook his head from side to side, sighing as he gave Juice an amused look.

"Hey," Nadia laughed softly. The guy seemed almost sweet; a stark contrast to the members she had met so far. He didn't seem to be actually afraid of her, but he was definitely nervous.

"Missed dinner. Throwin' a man through a window really takes it out of ya huh?" Gemma appeared from behind Juice. Her face was serious but there was a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Guess so," Nadia replied. Her stomach grumbled hungrily at the mention of dinner.

"Well I saved you a plate, had to fight these guys for it," Gemma gave the guys a look of fake annoyance. She bumped Juice's arm playfully, evoking a bashful smile.

"Thanks." Nadia smiled appreciatively at Gemma.

"Are you staying in Charming?" Tara asked. She had been observing Nadia curiously.

"Yea, figured I'd find a place in the morning." Nadia said, shifting her weight to lean against the wall.

"Be careful around town tomorrow, guys are going out of town for a charity run." Gemma's voice was stern but she looked genuinely concerned.

Nadia almost smirked. Guess the cops leave you alone when you are doing _charity_ work. Nice cover.

"Come on," Gemma gestured for her to follow as she walked back into the kitchen.

Nadia followed her through the kitchen and into a large dining room. Tig, Happy, and Clay were sitting at the end of a long wood table. They were talking quietly, beer bottles in hand. Empty plates, glasses and bottles were scattered across the wooden surface. 'There must be a lot of them,' Nadia thought, noting how many chairs were placed around the table. There was even an empty high chair at the far corner of the table.

"Feelin' rested doll?" Tig asked, looking up at her with a lopsided grin.

"Yes, _Honey,_" Nadia teased, pitching her voice low. She hated pet names, had never understood the appeal of endearments like "baby," "sugar," and "_doll." _

"Oh, that's cold…" Tig grabbed his chest in mock distress before chuckling.

"What's up with you two?" Gemma asked, motioning for Nadia to take a seat at the table.

"She all but threatened to feed him his balls. Know he is into weird shit like that." Clay responded.

"Thanks for helpin' out today, know you are gonna take some heat. We'll watch out for ya but… be careful."

Nadia nodded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Over the last few hours she had been told to be careful more than she had in her entire life. If one more person told her to "be careful" she was going to kick their ass_ just_ to prove a point.

Happy shifted in his seat, causing Nadia to look in his direction. He was staring at her thoughtfully, an emotion she didn't recognize heavy in his eyes.

'Shit' Nadia thought, feeling goose bumps run down her arms. She was _seriously_ screwed with this guy. He had barely said more than one word to her and she was already enthralled. It was an unfamiliar sensation for Nadia; she didn't make a habit out of being too invested in anyone, especially not a guy.

The smell of food distracted her as Gemma sat a plate in front of her. Her mouth watered as she looked at the contents on the plate: meatloaf, potatoes, and peas. It had been a _very, very, very _long time since she had a home cooked meal. She heard Happy laugh softly, watching her stare at the plate.

Clearing her throat, Nadia began to eat. After a minute, the guys fell back into conversation, telling stories and teasing each other. Occasionally someone would direct a question or comment at Nadia, but for the most part she just watched. She liked these guys; they were easy to be around. They acted like she was _supposed_ to be at the table, didn't seemed phased by her quiet nature.

It was a good thing too because by the time she finished her plate she was barely even following the conversation. In spite of her nap, she still felt exhausted and the noise was becoming overwhelming. She had been virtually alone for four years and all the stimulation felt unnatural, _especially _when she was so tired. She looked around the room, focusing on small details as she tried to keep her eyes open.

"Come on," a familiar deep voice rumbled in her ear. A warm rough hand wrapped behind her back, pulling her away from her the dining room.

She let Happy lead her out the backdoor towards a wooden bench. He sat down and patted the seat next to him, turning his attention to lighting a cigarette.

After taking a few puffs, he looked over at her. Reaching his hand towards her, he lifted the edge of her shirt a little to reveal more of her tattoo. Nadia felt her skin burn at the contact, a renewed wave of lust overwhelming her. His hand lingered for a moment, the back of his finger rubbing gently over her collarbone.

"That's beautiful." He said, looking at her intently before turning his attention back to his cigarette.

A response seemed unnecessary so Nadia just nodded. She let her body relax slightly against the frame of the wooden bench, appreciating the silence. After a few minutes, Nadia turned her attention towards Happy. He looked like he was considering something, going over it carefully in his head. His jaw clenched and unclenched several times. Nadia had a feeling he wanted to ask her something but seemed to understand she needed the quiet.

"Thanks." Nadia said, realizing that was probably why he had brought her out here. She knew he had been watching her closely in the dining room. He had probably noticed her eyes glaze over mid-conversation. She also realized it was probably out of character for him. Despite the name, he didn't seem like the kind of guy that walked around making sure people were comfortable.

Happy nodded, shooting her a wicked grin before handing the cigarette to her in offering. She took a long drag, enjoying the taste of nicotine on her tongue.

"Why did you do it?" Happy asked. Nadia turned to look at him and found him gazing at her, his eyes ablaze with that same unreadable emotion.

Nadia took a last drag of the cigarette before handing it back to Happy.

"Because it was the right thing to do," Nadia said simply.

"They will come looking for you now though…might kill you" Happy said with a matter of fact tone.

"That doesn't change anything." Nadia said shaking her head from side to side.

Sighing, she thought about her words for a minute.

"The principles by which we live our lives…they shouldn't change because the risk changes."

"Some things are more important than death," Nadia added, glancing at Happy.

He was looking at Nadia appraisingly, nodding his head like he was satisfied with her answer. They fell into a comfortable silence, finishing the cigarette. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been this relaxed. Since she was sixteen her life had been near non-stop chaos. It was why she had been good at her job; she could adapt and react easily. Things were never good or safe, reality was harsh and she had always accepted that. But sitting here with Happy in silence? Things were finally just _still_.

"You should get some sleep." Happy said nodding in the direction of the house. He stood up and offered her his hand.

Nadia looked at his hand for a minute before reaching out and taking it in her own.

**Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following! I'm glad you guys are liking Nadia, I thought it would be really interesting to see a girl like that fit into the SOA world. I love the show and the women can be tough but I feel like half the time they are either getting hit or getting kidnapped. Seriously, Charming should sponsor a self-defense class for all women in the town...at least hand out free mace.  
**

** I already have the outlines for the next few chapters. I like to edit/re-read a lot but they should be up pretty quickly because I'm on leave from work with an injured shoulder and am bored out of my mind. Hope you guys keep enjoying it! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you guys like the new chapter, so appreciative of all the support. For the reviewer that asked about a reaction from Zobelle, there is a small section of that in this chapter but there is a lot more (and a confrontation) coming in chapter four...you'll see why. **

Chapter 3:

_Nadia stood quietly, her legs shaking under the weight of a cold wind. Her hair was blowing wildly, shrouding her face as she stared intently forward. Two headstones, freshly cut, stood directly in front of her. A lump formed painfully in her throat as she felt tears begin to fall steadily down her cheeks. Pulling her jacket tighter around her body, Nadia shifted her gaze to the horizon. After watching the sunset for a few minutes, Nadia closed her eyes; her thoughts drifting to a more pleasant time. _

_ A soft voice drew Nadia out of her reverie. Opening her eyes, Nadia was met with a sympathetic stare. An elderly woman, a friend of her parents', was standing in front of her. She was wearing all black, a handkerchief gripped tightly in her left hand. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying, her face a ghastly shade of white. _

_ "Take care of Anna." The woman's voice wavered, sobs muddling her words. She let out a high-pitched wail, her frail hands shaking violently with emotion. A man, her husband perhaps, walked up behind her, consoling her gently as he pulled her away. _

_ She looked down at her younger sister. She was hiding behind Nadia's leg, her fingers latched tightly on Nadia's dress. Her heart clenched painfully as Anna looked up expectantly at her, eyes wide and frightened. _

Nadia felt her vision slowly focus as the old memory dissipated. A newspaper clipping dated five years ago was gripped tightly in her hand, her knuckles white with effort. She was sitting on a small couch in her new furnished rental; a wooden coffee table in front of her. Papers were sprawled messily across the surface, a holstered gun peeking out from beneath the stack. Agitated, Nadia pushed the article beneath the overflowing pile.

A laptop was open on the far corner of the table, a Windows icon flashing sporadically across the screen. Lying on the keyboard was a single piece of paper, a name circled in red ink: Alex Thompson. She gritted her teeth, clinching her jaw painfully as she considered the laptop. Her lead had reached a dead-end. Sam had used a forged passport to re-enter the U.S., _Alex Thompson._ After spending hours hacking into every database within her reach and ability, she still had only a name. Even retired, Sam was still being cautious, carefully hiding his tracks. She knew he was still in the U.S. but without knowing which state it was like looking for a needle in _fifty _haystacks. There was only one person she knew that would be able to find him…Fletcher.

Nadia reached across the table, hitting a key on the laptop. The screen saver disappeared, a flashing window blinking in its stead.

"Send e-mail?"

Her finger hovered over the enter key, silently debating the decision. It was a risky move, contacting Fletcher. He was an old contact from before the firm. As an assassin, Nadia had earned a reputation for handling _difficult_ clients. She had always been selective with the jobs she took, only accepting contracts for the nastiest and vilest of people. Individuals who thought they were protected and untouchable. Fletcher had helped her find the more difficult to locate targets and was _very_ good at it. The firm knew about the connection though. If they were monitoring her, she would be walking him into a very messy trap. On the other hand, Fletcher was easily the most paranoid person she had ever met. Several IQ points lower and he would probably be wearing a tin foil hat, trying to communicate with aliens. If anyone would know that they were being watched, it'd be Fletcher.

'Here goes nothing,' Nadia thought as she hit enter, her finger lingering on the key. There was no choice. If she wanted to get answers, she had to find Sam and this was the only way to do it.

The coffee maker beeped loudly from the kitchen. Nadia yawned, stretching her arms lazily above her head before shifting off the couch. Grabbing a cup of coffee, Nadia hoisted herself up on the counter, dangling her legs over the edge. She removed her cell phone from her jacket pocket, placing it on the counter next to her as she thought over the events of the morning.

The club had left early for the charity run, picking Clay up on their way out-of-town. Gemma and Clay had been talking in the kitchen, arguing in hushed tones. There was a distance between them, a heavy tension that was impossible to miss. Uncomfortable eavesdropping on their conversation, Nadia had chosen to wait outside. She had stood next to Happy, watching the guys tease Bobby relentlessly about his old bike. Twenty minutes later, Clay had come out of the house looking frustrated and angry. Hearing motorcycle engines start to rev, Nadia had tried to shift away from Happy. He had stopped her though, grabbing her arm firmly. He hadn't said anything, just watched her for a minute; the heavy weight of his stare rendering her motionless. Eventually he had just nodded, a silent understanding passing between them: _watch your back._

A loud _ding_ interrupted her thoughts. Nadia flipped open her cell phone, reading the message.

_1134 Jasper Dr, Oakland. _

Nadia closed the phone before removing its SIM card. She broke it in half, tossing the pieces down the drain. It looked like she was going to visit Oakland today.

A loud crashing noise, glass breaking, drew her attention towards the front yard. Moving quickly to the front window, Nadia lifted the curtain cautiously looking for the source of the noise. A man was leaned casually against the hood of her car, a broken windshield visible behind him. _Son of a bitch, _Nadia thought as she quickly grabbed her gun off the coffee table, sending papers flying on to the floor. Attaching the holstered Glock 37 to her belt, Nadia made her way out the front door.

"Subtle. Really." Nadia rolled her eyes, stopping a few feet away from the man. It was pretty easy to guess what kind of club this guy was a member of. His hair was cut short, his face set in a grim line. A tattoo peeked out from beneath his shirt collar, just visible at the base of his throat. Guess the shirt collar meant she was moving up the Aryan food chain. _How flattering. _

"Weston."

"Ok." Nadia replied. Her tone was clipped; she didn't give a shit what his name was.

"Dangerous neighborhood…" He mused, looking down the street before turning his cold stare on Nadia. "Thought I'd offer you some friendly advice"

Nadia scoffed. This _friendly advice_ was going to set her trip to Oakland back at least a day; unless she was going to run fifty plus miles or drive without a windshield.

"Something bad might happen to a girl like you in Charming."

"That's nice of you to look out for a poor helpless little girl like me." Nadia kept her voice sweet, no hint of anger or malice.

"Maybe you should find a new town." His tone was even, but the threat was clear.

Nadia laughed softly, a bitter smile on her lips. She didn't appreciate being threatened, certainly didn't handle it well. Threatening Nadia was the quickest way to get her to dig her heels in; she'd stick around just to spite these guys. She'd handled prison, starvation, interrogations, rigorous training. There was no way she was going to run away because some jerk with a bad attitude broke her windshield.

"I think I'll stay put." Nadia took a step forward, closing the remaining distance between her and Weston.

"Then I suggest you sleep with one eye open." He smiled politely as he turned to walk towards his car.

"Sweetheart, I _always_ do." Nadia purred, watching him drive away.

* * *

Nadia turned into Teller-Morrow Automotive, craning her neck out of the driver window. She huffed in annoyance as she turned off the ignition. It was already 3:30 p.m., which meant the odds that she would have her car back today were slim to none. Growling, Nadia got out of the car slamming the door shut behind her. She tapped her fingers on the hood of the car, trying to swallow her frustration.

"Hey!"

Nadia turned in the direction of the greeting. A thin blonde male was jogging over to her. He greeted her with a quick nod as he got closer.

"Hey," She smiled warmly, reminding herself to be nice. The best way to get a mechanic to fix your car was probably _not_ to yell at him, even if it would make her feel better.

"What happened?" His eyes widened as he took in the shattered windshield behind her.

"Hit a deer." Nadia said, shrugging her shoulder innocently. He moved closer to the car, scratching his head in confusion. He looked from her to the car a few times before speaking.

"A deer?" He flashed a skeptical grin.

"Yep, big ugly bastard." She widened her eyes for effect. The guy chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Nadia right?" He inclined his head questioningly at her.

"Yes," Nadia answered slowly, inspecting the blonde more carefully. She knew that the Sons ran the shop but she was a hundred percent sure that she hadn't met this guy before.

"Half-Sack, prospect for the club" He smiled proudly, holding out his hand.

Nadia hesitated, giving him a crazy look. After a minute, she took his hand, deciding it was probably better not to ask about the weird name. She had a feeling it was more information than she really wanted.

"You guys replace windshields?" Nadia asked looking back at the car.

"Yea." His eyes scrunched as he considered something. "We are a bit backed up, can get it ready for you by tomorrow though."

"Damn, guess y'all are down a few bodies with the run huh?" Nadia nodded towards the open bay windows. Several cars were lined up, waiting for an available mechanic. A minivan sat in the corner of the lot, still attached to a tow-truck.

He shrugged affirmatively, glancing briefly in the direction Nadia was looking. Cursing under her breath, Nadia tossed Half-Sack the keys to her car. Guess she was sticking around in Charming for the day.

He looked up at the last second, catching them close to his chest. Nadia began to walk towards the road.

"You need a ride?" he called.

"Nah, don't worry about it, I got legs." Nadia called over her shoulder, waving as she turned the corner.

* * *

Nadia wandered aimlessly through downtown Charming, enjoying the warm day. It was a bizarre town; quaint and friendly but also dilapidated and tired. Nevertheless, she liked it. It was strangely endearing. There were a fair amount of people around, many of them waving or smiling at her as she passed. It was unsettling _and_ comforting to have them accept her as part of their town.

Turning the corner on to Main Street, Nadia heard an angry car horn. She looked up just in time to see Gemma, sitting in the front seat of a black Suburban, waving a gun threateningly at the honking car. The driver yelled an expletive loudly before slamming on the gas, car wheels screeching in protest.

'That's not good,' Nadia thought. She approached Gemma's car, careful not to startle her. The last thing she needed today, or really any day, was to get her head blown off.

Gemma watched Nadia approach, rolling down the window reluctantly when she tapped on the passenger door.

"Well that was rude." Nadia gave Gemma a quizzical look.

"Not like I shot her" Gemma said, rolling her eyes.

"True," Nadia said the words slowly, tilting her head as she observed Gemma. She was visibly flustered, staring intently at something down the street. Following Gemma's gaze, Nadia grimaced in understanding. Weston, the guy who had threatened her this afternoon, was standing in front of a cigar shop. He was talking to a guy in a suit, someone she didn't recognize. The unfamiliar face smiled before putting his arm around Weston, shaking his hand. They walked into the store, arm in arm.

'So the devil owns a cigar shop,' Nadia thought, remembering Unser's description of Zobelle. She opened the car door, sliding into the passenger seat.

"They don't know do they?" She looked out the passenger window, giving Gemma space to talk. She had seen how important Gemma was to the club, if the Sons knew about the assault there is no way these guys would still be alive. It would also explain the growing distance between her and Clay.

"What?" Gemma snapped. Her tone was indignant, angry.

"I heard what the guy said to you at the diner, I know what they did to you."

Gemma was glaring at her, a wild look on her face like she wanted to throw her from the car. Nadia held up her hands non-confrontationally.

"I won't say anything, you have your reasons. But _this_" Nadia motioned towards the gun Gemma was still holding.

"Isn't going to give you what you want."

"Yea? What do you know about it?" Gemma asked sardonically, raising her eyebrow as she shifted in her seat. Nadia chuckled. She liked Gemma, fierce and bold to the end.

"I don't know shit about what you are going through, but I know what it's like to feel powerless." Nadia replied. She persisted, ignoring the nasty look Gemma was giving her.

"Whatever it is you are planning on doing right now…it's not going to give you what you want. The only way to deal with this is to find a way to take power back over your life. Shooting them in the middle of Main Street with tons of witnesses?...That gives them even more power over your future."

"Well aren't you wise?" Gemma's glare softened as she smirked at Nadia.

"I like to think so," Nadia joked.

Gemma shifted back in her seat, placing the gun grudgingly back in her purse. She looked out the window for a few more minutes before looking at Nadia suspiciously.

"What are you doing walking around?" Her tone was almost accusatory, but Nadia could see the concern in her eyes. It was strange being the subject of someone's concern, especially someone like Gemma Teller.

"Car is in the shop." Nadia mentally crossed her fingers, hoping Gemma would leave it alone. Gemma considered it for a minute but dropped the subject.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride. Need to stop by the house first though, left the repo list there this morning."

"Thanks."

In truth, Nadia wanted to decline the offer. She was relieved though that Gemma was leaving, distancing herself from Weston and Zobelle for now. After driving in silence for a few minutes, Gemma spoke.

"What's with you and Hap?" Gemma asked, barely taking her eyes off the road.

"What?" Nadia asked. She was caught off guard by the change of subject and not sure how to answer the question.

"Don't play coy with me missy. I saw you two the other night and this morning." She waved her finger at Nadia.

"Payback for the lecture I just gave you?" Nadia asked. She was uncomfortable with the conversation. She liked Happy but she had known him for barely two days, nothing had actually happened_. _Nothing could happen. _Unfortunately_, her subconscious chimed in.

"No smartass" Gemma cocked her head emphatically. She gave Nadia a pointed look before continuing. "Look, honey, I like you…"

"And I have never seen that man look at any woman the way he looks at you. I've never even seen him with a girl who wasn't a croweater. And that?"

Gemma paused before continuing, turning to make sure Nadia was listening.

"Is definitely out of his comfort zone. Have a feeling he isn't sure what to do with you yet..."

"Okay?" Nadia asked slowly, a skeptical look on her face. She couldn't really picture Happy as unsure of anything, especially a woman. And what the hell was a _croweater_?

"Once a guy like that finally figures it out, he isn't going to just let go sweetheart." She shook her head, emphasizing her point.

"You'd be good for him, but you also have a look like you aren't exactly jumping to lay down roots." Gemma gave Nadia a knowing look that had her shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat. She hadn't asked for anything from Happy, hadn't promised him anything. She knew she couldn't, she might not even be alive in a week. So why the hell did she feel so damn guilty?

"So be sure you _really_ want it, for good, before going any further with him. You break the heart of one of my boys? I'll slit your goddamn throat."

"Good to know." Nadia whispered quietly as she shifted back in her seat. She was already lost in thought, considering Gemma's words.

* * *

Once inside Impeccable Smokes, Weston dropped Zobelle's hand, shifting his weight in agitation. "It didn't work." His tone was snappy and frustrated.

"What didn't work?" Zobelle asked nonchalantly as he began to flip through a stack of papers.

"She_ wasn't_ scared."

"Ahh," Zobelle nodded in understanding as he stopped to consider Weston. He looked angry, his fists clenched as he waited for directions. Zobelle dropped the stack of papers, walking over to Weston.

"Relax Mr. Weston…you will get retribution for what happened to your men at the diner." He lied easily; the attack at the diner had been sloppy, careless. Their brash actions had jeopardized his bigger plan and they deserved their death.

He rubbed his chin, considering the woman. "Not everyone is afraid of death…"

"We just have to find out what makes Ms. Burlachenko _tic._" Zobelle carefully enunciated the last word. He didn't really expect the woman to continue to be a problem in his dealings with SAMCRO. She had no connections to the club and had merely been in the right place at the right time. He didn't make a habit out of gambling though, he would figure out a way to make sure she stayed out of the picture.

"Yea and how do we do that?" Weston barked. Zobelle smirked before answering, the words _above your pay grade_ coming to mind.

"For now you just worry about SAMCRO, I'll handle the woman. It's time we humble Clay Morrow."

Weston nodded reluctantly, his temple pulsating angrily. "The vans and the guys are already in place."

"Good, good," Zobelle smiled, patting Weston on the back. "Make sure…"

"no mistakes this time, it can't be linkable to us." Zobelle emphasized his point with a small squeeze of Weston's shoulder.

Weston nodded his head curtly. A smile barely reached Zobelle's lips as he watched Weston leave. He had _contingencies_ in place to make sure he could walk away from Charming if things went south. Nothing could be linked to him. He was prepared to tie the whole thing around Weston's neck if needed.

* * *

Nadia swayed back and forth on her feet as she waited for Gemma to find the repo list. She had been standing in the foyer for close to ten minutes while Gemma looked upstairs. Growing restless, Nadia walked languidly over to a large window on the far side of the living room. She sighed, mulling over Gemma's words. Was she being selfish staying in Charming? She liked these people and the town but she wasn't here permanently. She didn't want to hurt anyone.

The floor creaked loudly to her left, shifting under someone's weight. Nadia snapped her head in the direction of the noise. A man was standing in the entryway to the kitchen. He was large, well over six feet tall. His head was shaved, a huge swastika tattooed on his right forearm. He was wearing a wife beater, the neck cut low to reveal the name "Jimmy" inked across his chest. His eyes widened in surprise briefly before his expression turned sinister. Taking a threatening step towards Nadia, he slowly unsheathed a large machete.

_Shit, _Nadia thought, immediately reaching behind her back for her gun. Before she could reach it, a powerful pain exploded up her right arm, halting the movement. Her breath caught agonizingly as her entire body tensed in reaction to the pain. She stumbled backwards a step, feeling dizzy.

Nadia collided with another body as a large hand simultaneously wrapped around her neck. Her assailant jerked her back violently, pulling her flush against him. He laughed menacingly in her ear as he grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her neck back at an unnatural angle. Shifting her gaze down to her right arm, Nadia growled when she saw a 2½ inch wide knife sticking out of her bicep. Blood was already pooled around the wound, rapidly collecting on the blade.

'That was a mistake,' Nadia thought crossly, watching "Jimmy" approach her. These guys were really, _really_ pissing her off. They were like roaches; every time you squash one, two more appear.

"What's this?" The guy behind her whispered in a chiding tone. He reached slowly under her jacket towards her gun. 'Not for you,' Nadia thought as she calmly calculated her next move. The mistake people tended to make was not staying calm. Losing your cool meant you missed things, it meant you missed the opportunity to survive.

"What the…?" Gemma appeared in the far end of the living room. Her eyes were wide and angry, the repo list folded in her right hand.

The grip on Nadia's hair loosened slightly, both men momentarily distracted by Gemma's appearance. Taking advantage of the increased mobility, Nadia reared her left elbow back as hard as she could, busting his nose. Hearing an answering howl, Nadia brought her right arm across her body. She ripped the knife out of her arm with her left hand, ignoring the marked increase in pain. She lunged forward, imbedding the blade deeply into "Jimmy's" neck. He swayed for a moment, gargling and gasping for air, before he fell forward. _Dead._

Without wasting any time, Nadia drew her gun, pivoting on her heels to aim it at the remaining intruder. He was barely a foot away from her, holding his nose as blood flowed rapidly down his face. He had a knife in his other hand and was looking at her savagely. A wild rage reflected in his eyes. She had missed a knife in the back by mere seconds.

"You have ten seconds to drop the knife." Nadia gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the painful throbbing sensation in her arm. She shifted the gun to her left hand, allowing her right arm to drop limply at her side. Blood poured steadily down her arm, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.

"Look, I can't promise I won't get to seven and just shoot you." Nadia snapped, casting a lethal glare at the man. He hesitated for a moment longer before dropping it on the floor and raising his hands above his head begrudgingly.

"Jesus" Gemma scrambled towards her, grabbing a folded hand towel off of the top of a stack of laundry. Nadia winced slightly as Gemma applied pressure to the wound. She had lost a lot of blood and was feeling increasingly light-headed and nauseated.

"I'm guessing they were here for you," Nadia inclined her head at the remaining man. They had looked surprised to see her in the house, indicating that she was not their intended target.

Gemma nodded in understanding, "making good on a promise."

Nadia wondered what exactly that promise was but kept her mouth shut. She could guess from their weapon of choice that it was not a friendly one.

"You got a cell phone?" Nadia asked, never taking her eyes off the man in front of her. He had a crazy look in his eyes, like he was either angry enough or desperate enough to try anything. Gemma pulled her phone from her pocket, handing it to Nadia.

"Why? Who you callin?" Gemma looked suspicious.

"Take this," Nadia motioned to Gemma to take the gun. She flipped open the phone to dial but paused when she saw the look on Gemma's face.

"Don't shoot him unless you actually have to Gemma." Nadia warned through tight lips. The towel was quickly becoming saturated with blood. She dialed 911 before grabbing another, longer towel off the stack. She ripped it in half with her teeth, muttering an apology as she twisted it tightly around her arm. She raised the limb above her heart, waiting for the police to answer.

"You are callin' the cops!" Gemma shouted, turning her attention towards Nadia. Nadia shot her an incredulous look, who else would she be calling? The guy started to lunge forward, noticing Gemma's break in concentration. Exasperated, Nadia took the gun from Gemma.

"Sit." Nadia's voice was seething. Her eyes darkened with anger as she took a threatening step towards the man. She was in a lot of pain and if she had to deal with anything else from these goddamn purveyors of white hate, she was going to lose it.

"We need to call Clay first." Gemma protested. Her hands were on her hips, her expression stern.

"Why?" Nadia asked as the phone continued to ring. Gemma gave her a loaded look.

"Christ Gemma. Self-defense isn't illegal until you dig a god damn shallow grave!" Nadia's voice grew louder with each word. She was losing her patience with the situation, _fast_. She was not going to jeopardize everything to let some bikers deliver a little vigilante justice. Gemma hadn't killed anyone, she had, which meant that her ass was potentially on the line. She didn't like the idea of the Sons having leverage on her, new friends or not.

"Look these guys were lackeys, Aryan muscle. Clay killing this guy will get you nowhere closer to ending your problem with this…." Nadia waived the gun slightly thinking of the proper term.

"League of American Nationals or whatever the hell euphemism these guys use to sleep soundly at night."

Gemma gave her a disapproving look, her mouth tight, but didn't say anything else.

"911, what's your emergency?" A woman's voice came over the line.

"I'd like to report a break in."

* * *

Early the next morning:

Nadia sighed as she shifted forward, resting her elbows heavily on her knees. She tapped her half-finished beer against her bare calf. Her hair was damp, her expression dark and heavy. The TV was on in the background, the volume turned down low to be nearly inaudible. A towel was wrapped tightly around her body. She hadn't bothered to get dressed after her shower.

She considered the fresh dressing on her arm, replaying her conversation with Deputy Chief Hale. The surviving intruder wouldn't talk and there was no way to link the attempted hit to Zobelle. Hale had referred to him as "untouchable". Nadia gripped the beer bottle tighter, enraged by the term. Untouchable meant that he was free to keep hurting people, harassing Gemma, hiding in plain sight from the law. Untouchable meant that he had deep pockets and even deeper connections. Nadia _hated_ untouchable. The only way to deal with _untouchable_ was outside of the law.

She wasn't ready to admit it yet, but this was becoming personal. It was about more than protecting two strangers at a diner. Somehow she cared about what happened to these people, especially Gemma. She felt conflicted, like it would be wrong to walk away and wrong to stay. Either way, Zobelle needed to be dealt with, _soon_. He was a rabid dog hiding in a suit. Sure, she'd give the club their chance for revenge, they deserved their shot. But if Zobelle got directly in her way again, she couldn't make any promises. He was wasting her time, keeping her from finding Sam. She had to find Sam. She had to know. She needed her revenge. As anger bubbled up in her chest, a painful memory from four and a half years ago surfaced.

_She looked at the dead man, alarms going off in her head. Why was he in her hotel bathroom? She didn't know him and definitely hadn't killed him. He looked Korean, maybe thirty at the most. 'A set up?' Nadia wondered. She didn't hear any sirens but still, something was very wrong. _

_A sharp pain erupted in her upper abdomen as she tried to stand. The force sent her stumbling backwards towards the bathtub. Nadia gasped for air as she looked down, trying to understand. Blood was pouring out in waves, staining her white shirt. Sam stood in front of her, a silenced pistol in his hand. "Sam?" she asked, her mind still unwilling to accept the truth. _

_ She felt her own weight trying to pull her to the ground. She tried to stop her momentum but felt the edge of the tub make contact with her legs, sending her falling back into it. Nadia's body hit the porcelain tub with a resounding crack. She tried to struggle, to move, but her limbs wouldn't listen. A dark fog was dragging her deeper and deeper as her mind screamed out in protest. She saw Sam's blurry figure walking away and then everything went black. _

A stray tear ran down her cheek, settling at the edge of her jaw. She stared vacantly ahead, feeling determination settle over her. She was going to put a bullet in Sam's head, _one way or another_.

Nadia stiffened as she heard a set of footsteps walking quickly to her door. Who would be visiting her this early? Seconds later it was thrown open, rattling loudly on its hinges. Simultaneously, Nadia drew a gun from inside the couch cushion. She aimed the Kimber 1911 carefully in the direction of the noise as she continued to stare forward. She was tired, _raw_, not in the mood to deal with anyone else.

"Nadia" a deep voice whispered from the doorway, thick with emotion.

She turned her gaze towards the familiar voice, her finger still hovering over the trigger.

"Happy," she breathed, her voice barely audible. She wasn't expecting him to turn up at her door. She stared at him in confusion, transfixed by the emotions in his eyes. He looked feral, angry, and…_worried._ She lowered the gun slowly, flipping on the safety as she deposited it back in the couch cushion.

He took a small step forward, shutting the front door behind him. His eyes shifted to the bandage on her arm. A dark look passed over his features as he let out a low growl. She shivered at the primal noise as she waited for him to say something. To explain why he was here. He didn't though.

He just stood there, quietly. His gaze was calculating, a decision being made as his eyes shifted back and forth from the bandage on her arm to her face. She stood, growing uncomfortable with the weight of his stare and the developing want in his eyes. Gemma's words were still ringing in her ears. She was being selfish. She should ask him to leave, tell him she wasn't interested. The longer he stood there, the more complicated her quest to find Sam would become. The harder it would be to stay detached and walk away when she had to. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She closed her eyes briefly, trying again to find the words. When she opened them, she had only a second to prepare.

He crossed the room in three quick strides, her mind frantically struggling to remember why she wanted him to leave. His mouth descended on hers greedily as his hands tightened, pulling her closer. Nadia tensed briefly, her mind trying desperately to reason with her body. Desire muddling rational arguments, she reacted; deepening the kiss. She needed _more_. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, barely even registering the responding pain in her arm.

He gripped her firmly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her back arching. She let out a small moan as he bit her lip. The sound intensified his efforts; he began to kiss her with even more fervor. She felt her back hit the wall, the remaining distance between their bodies closed._ More, _her body demanded. She reached under his shirt, her nails scraping down his back as she ignored the voice in her head that told her to stay away. _She couldn't._

His hands moved up her stomach, beneath the towel; her toes curling in response. Just as he was about to remove it, a phone rang softly. Happy paused, cursing violently under his breath as he reached out to see who it was. Whoever it was, Happy let out a renewed wave of angry words at the ringing phone.

"What" he snarled into the phone, his displeasure with the interruption clear.

She bit the inside of her lip, trying not to smile, as she rested her head on his shoulder. Happy still had her pinned against the wall, his free hand settled on her thigh. The rough calluses of his hand rubbed gently across its surface, causing Nadia to pin her legs tighter around his frame.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her chest was still moving rapidly, her heart rate refusing to slow. _What was she doing?_ Her mind hurled angry insults at her, telling her this was a mistake, that she was being stupid. That she was jeopardizing her mission.

Suddenly, she felt his whole body go rigid, effectively interrupting her thoughts. Pushing back, Nadia was met with a deadly stare. He snapped the phone shut, throwing it on the ground angrily. Something had happened, something very bad. His grip on her thigh tightened uncomfortably but otherwise he didn't move. She understood. He was trying to calm himself down, gain control back.

She waited patiently, letting one of her fingers stroke his chest gently, her earlier reservations forgotten. In this moment, he needed her. After a few minutes, his shoulders dropped slightly. He sighed as he let her down slowly.

"Get dressed. We gotta go." His voice was lethal, rage hardening the words, but his gaze was softer. She looked at him for a second before reluctantly turning to her room to get dressed. She didn't usually follow orders without question but she understood a little of how he worked. He needed some control in the situation and if it helped, she was willing to play obedient _temporarily._ She figured she owed him one for rescuing her at dinner the other night.

Hastily, she threw on her only pair of jeans and a black top, trying to discern what the hell had happened. It'd have to be something with the club or there would be no reason for her to come too. She felt a pang of apprehension at the idea that one of them had been hurt. She slipped on a pair of boots as she hurried out of the room. Stopping, she walked back into her bedroom to grab a subcompact pistol from the dresser. Better safe than sorry. She grabbed her leather jacket off the back of the couch, throwing it on as she left the house.

Happy was sitting on his bike in front of her house, staring down the road. His glare was angry, the muscles in his neck and jaw twitching. She quickly locked the front door, wondering again what was going on. Absentmindedly she shrugged her right shoulder, trying to find a comfortable position as she walked to Happy. Looking up, she saw his glare soften slightly.

"What?' She asked.

"Nothin'," he replied after a quick second, motioning for her to get on the bike. She rubbed her arm one last time before swinging her leg over the back, settling behind him. She was about 70% sure she was making a mistake but she couldn't stop herself. For the first time in her life, she was making a mistake _intentionally, _unable to make the hard call. _What the hell was happening to her?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, so this was originally the first half a much longer chapter but there is so much that happens in the second half that it's taking a little longer to write. I figured since it's been about a week you guys would appreciate an update... so here you go!**

Chapter 4:

"Shit," Nadia said softly, her eyes raking over the charred carcass of a minivan. Dark ash scoured the concrete ground surrounding the wreckage, burn marks staining the back of the tow truck it had been previously attached to. The still lingering darkness of early dawn obscured most of the finer details from her distant position but she didn't need to see it to understand. She had known immediately, recognizing the familiar and ominous scent of sodium nitrate that still hung heavy in the air. Explosives…

"Yea," Happy grunted behind her.

"Who?" Nadia asked, her gaze still frozen on the mangled mess of metal and ash across the lot. She felt a hollow pressure begin to build in her chest as she waited anxiously for Happy to respond.

"Juice…went off as he was walking by it last night…"

Nadia released a shaky breath, anger immediately replacing her earlier anxiety. A car bomb was a serious message for _anyone _to send, especially in a town like Charming. Zobelle was communicating loud and clear that he could reach them anywhere. First he infiltrated Clay's home, then his clubhouse. Zobelle was playing dirty, trying to break their morale. It was a display of dominance, a mind game that quite frankly, pissed her off.

She clicked her tongue in agitation, surprised by how angry she was that Juice had been hurt. This shouldn't be her problem but she couldn't deny her outrage either, she obviously cared about these people. Even though she had only met Juice twice, she genuinely liked him. Sure he was just as dangerous as the others; but he was sweet too, almost goofy. It seemed worse somehow for someone like him to get hurt.

"Bad?" Nadia asked after a minute.

"Head injury…St. Thomas," Happy replied tersely.

Nadia's head snapped around, disturbed by the edge in his voice. An overwrought appearance, his hands were shoved in the front pockets of his jeans in an effort to restrain himself. His eyes looked nearly pitch black, clouded by a volatile fury.

Nadia felt her expression soften as she watched him continue to scowl at the remnants of the explosion. He was barely holding it together. Someone had hurt one of his brothers; he needed to retaliate. It was his way of fixing it, of handling and rectifying the situation. She could understand that, even relate to it, but she also knew how powerful the emotions he was feeling would be. For some reason she didn't understand and couldn't resist, she caught herself trying to ease the burden.

"Hey," she began gently, trying to get his attention.

Even though he was only a few inches away from her, he didn't seem to hear her. Instead, he kept staring across the lot; not acknowledging her in the slightest. Undeterred, she reached a hand out, looping her fingers through a belt loop on his jeans. She tugged it gently, finally drawing his attention to her. His expression was still clouded but his eyes focused slightly, just enough to let Nadia know he was listening.

"You'll get them." She said with absolute certainty. She didn't try to console him or tell him it would be alright, because in all probability it might not be. It wouldn't have been what she wanted to hear and she was confident it wouldn't be what Happy needed to hear. He needed the truth and she knew him well enough to know that whoever hurt Juice would, without a doubt, be six feet under soon enough.

He nodded angrily, his eyes lighting up at the promise of vengeance. "Come on," he rasped, pushing her gently towards the clubhouse. She followed him inside, the smell of booze and old cigarettes meeting her at the door. He immediately disappeared down a hallway, only briefly acknowledging the other guys. Nadia resisted the urge to follow him, figuring he'd be back soon enough.

Sighing, Nadia considered her surroundings. The inside of the clubhouse was fairly open, a few sofas and chairs scattered around the room. A long bar, well-stocked, ran along the left side. Chibs and Bobby were sitting at the far end of the bar, not so quietly arguing over a laptop. She chuckled, amused by the quarreling pair before continuing her inventory of the room.

An older gentleman, a member she didn't recognize, sat on a couch along the far wall across from a pool table. He looked excessively worn out, his chest rising and falling heavily with sleep. A bottle of tequila and an oxygen tank were tucked under his left arm, gripped tightly. Oxygen and booze. Nadia shook her head at the bizarre, and probably dangerous, combination. She wasn't going to judge though; she had a beer for breakfast less than thirty minutes ago. She shrugged her shoulder before turning her attention towards the room's last two current residents.

Gemma and Tara were talking, possibly arguing, in the entrance to the hallway that Happy had disappeared down. Neither woman had acknowledged, or seemed to even notice, her and Happy's entrance. Tara was smiling but it looked more hysterical than sincere and Gemma was gesturing emphatically, apparently midway through a tirade of some sort.

"Hand it over ya fuckin' erse" Chibs shouted.

"I know what I'm doing!" Bobby replied snappily.

Nadia felt her earlier amusement return as she watched them fight dramatically over the computer. They reminded her of two kids fighting over a shared toy; albeit two very large and heavily armed kids.

"Hey doll," Tig appeared from behind her, pulling her into a tight, and unexpected, hug.

Nadia frowned, awkwardly returning the gesture. Just as she began to pull away, he whispered a "thank you" in her ear. Nadia shook her head indicating her confusion. He didn't answer though. He simply nodded across the room towards where Gemma was still talking to Tara; a now obviously angry Tara. An emotion she struggled to identify sparked behind his eyes as he watched Gemma. Before she could give it anymore thought though, Chibs and Bobby renewed their argument over the computer with a considerable increase in volume.

"No, you're doing it wrong!" Bobby complained. He pushed Chibs' fingers off the keyboard just as Opie entered the room. Opie shook his head at the outburst before offering Nadia a weak smile and gruff hello. She didn't know a lot about his history but to Nadia, he always seemed to look so sad and worn down. The guy was practically the walking personification of grief.

"Wrong?" Chibs scoffed incredulously.

Tig sighed, looking both amused and annoyed. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Nadia elbowed Tig inquisitively.

"Weston's laptop, password prote—"

"Move out of the way!" Chibs demanded, interrupting Tig.

"Juice's area of expertise," Tig finished.

"Other leads?" Nadia asked.

Tig shook his head, his hands on his hips.

"Nothing, had addresses on them but they weren't there"

"Give it." Nadia demanded, gesturing at the computer. It was pretty obvious the two of them weren't going to get anywhere anytime soon. Both men looked up at her and then at Tig. She saw Tig nod jerkily out of the corner of her eye, perhaps approving her involvement.

"Have at it" Chibs said, looking relieved as he closed the laptop and slid it towards her. She sat down at the bar and immediately began working, hitting keys purposefully. Chibs raised an eyebrow appraisingly, looking her over before busying himself with his knife. For the next few minutes, the room was quiet except for the intermittent clicking of the keys as Nadia worked through strategies to hack the computer. In the absence of Chibs and Bobby's quarrelling, a somber silence had fallen over the men. Although their expressions were similar to Happy's, they seemed significantly more subdued. Almost sad.

"Church! Now."

Clay's booming voice interrupted the silence as he appeared from behind a set of closed doors. He looked incredibly angry and agitated, his crooked fingers gripping the doorframe tightly. It didn't seem unusual though; having your enemy break into your home and try to kill your wife tended to provoke even the most docile men. She was surprised, however, to see Jax standing behind him, watching Clay with hatred and disgust in his eyes.

'Interesting,' Nadia thought briefly before her attention shifted to Happy re-entering the room. He had changed clothes, perhaps even showered. Although still angry, he looked considerably more focused.

The men disappeared back into the room, leaving Nadia alone with Gemma and Tara. They continued arguing, their conversation growing louder with each passing minute. Nadia furrowed her brow, trying to concentrate on the laptop and not Tara's angry voice. She seemed really upset but it was none of her business. It would be best for her to stay out of it.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

"Ok." Happy responded eagerly, a dark edge to his voice. The other men at the table looked up at him, taken aback by the ruthlessness of his suggestions so far. Jax just shook his head; he knew this was about more than Juice. He had seen the look in his eye when he found out Nadia had been stabbed. Guy was in deep already and didn't even know it. It had surprised him at first but he figured if anyone could handle Happy, it was her. Hell, if anyone could handle Nadia, it was Hap.

"I don't give a shit what the plan is," Clay spat from his position at the head of the table. "They broke into my house, attacked my wife, and planted a bomb in our fucking backyard!"

"Addresses came up dry," Tig said after a minute, watching Clay cautiously.

"Did you really think Zobelle was sitting in his barker lounge waiting for us to swing by?" Bobby gave Tig a disbelieving look.

Clay shifted in his chair. HIs aggravation was evident as he rolled his eyes at Bobby. "Anything on the laptop?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

"Girls got it," Chibs said. His eyes remained on the table, deep in thought.

"Can we trust her?" Clay asked, surprised by the information. They couldn't afford a leak right now.

"Yes." Tig and Jax both responded simultaneously. Jax looked up in surprise at Tig; it wasn't like the Sergeant at Arms to be so trusting of an unfamiliar face.

Clay nodded his head slowly, trusting Tig's judgment for now. If she became a problem, he'd get rid of her himself.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Tara hit the wall angrily before rushing out of the clubhouse. Her boots slapped the tile floor loudly, echoing through the room as she exited. Nadia watched her leave, feeling sympathetic when she saw the anxiety and tension on Tara's face. The doctor was still adjusting to her life with the club; a car bomb couldn't exactly be easing a transition.

"You could try being nice" Nadia smirked, watching Gemma stare after Tara in both confusion and indignation. Nadia liked Gemma but she didn't seem to understand that not everyone was willing to jump head first into the tangled mess of club life. It was different for someone like Tara who had ambitions and priorities that fell outside of the club. She could respect the improbable balance Tara was trying to strike between a legitimate life and a boyfriend who was neck deep in an illegitimate lifestyle. It was _doomed_ to be sure, but admirable.

Gemma made a face, indicating her lack of amusement before sitting down next to Nadia.

"How's the arm?"

"Doesn't hurt," Nadia lied.

"You came with Happy?" She asked suspiciously.

"Yes…" Nadia answered tentatively, unsure if she was about to get another lecture that involved the threat of bodily harm.

"Good."

Nadia was surprised by the approval and was worried by the satisfaction on Gemma's face. She remembered their conversation in the car and was worried the approval came with a caveat; one that involved _happily ever after_as a requirement.

"It's not serious Gemma." She replied, hoping to dissuade her of any notions that they'd be walking down the aisle or wondering around blissfully in love. In truth, she needed to get her head out of her ass and break things off with Happy before they got any more serious. Every time she thought about it though she felt sick and couldn't find the words. She'd tried reasoning to herself on the ride over that it would be better for Happy, and she knew it would be, but she couldn't bring herself to open her damn mouth.

"I doubt that honey. Jax said Hap sped the whole way back to Charming…"

Nadia looked up from the screen, worry and curiosity piquing her interest. She assumed after the attack that they'd all return quickly from the run to check on Gemma but she didn't understand what that had to do with her.

"Couldn't calm him down, went straight to your place."

Nadia stuttered before biting her lip. A bad habit when she was distracted or perplexed. He _had_ looked really worried when he had arrived at her house but he barely knew her; there was no way all that fuss was over her. In spite of the irrationality of the idea and her inner dialogue, Nadia found herself struggling to suppress a smile. It was a foreign idea, someone checking up on her. Seeing the beginnings of a smile working on Nadia's face, Gemma gave her a knowing look but dropped the subject.

"Oh almost forgot," Gemma pulled a set of keys out of her back pocket. "Had the guys finish it last night, can't have you walkin' around after what happened..."

"… a deer?" She added skeptically, sliding the keys down the bar.

Nadia shrugged, diverting her eyes back to the computer. She was still preoccupied with thoughts of Happy: trying to decide if Gemma was right and what exactly, if anything, that implied.

"Won't say nothing, you have your reasons." She said in a poor impression of Nadia's accent as the guys began to file out of the meeting room. They looked stressed; indicating they probably hadn't come up with a viable plan, or at least not a very good one. Happy was the last one to leave the room, his gaze immediately zeroing in on Nadia.

She locked eyes with Happy for a second before turning back to the computer, desperately trying to focus on something else. Despite her best efforts, her body seemed constantly all too willing to sabotage any efforts at celibacy in regards to Happy Lowman. Now, in the middle of a crisis and a crowded room, was apparently no exception. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to dispel a gnawing heat curling in the pit of her belly. She was distinctly aware of him moving to stand behind her, the usual heavy weight of his stare resting solidly on her shoulders. A chill ran up her spine at his proximity; a heady mixture of lust and anticipation spreading through her body. Her fingers trembled slightly against the keyboard, despite her violent and increasingly graphic threats to cut them off if they didn't quit immediately.

She re-focused on the computer, annoyed by the effect Happy was having on her. The idea of being with someone shouldn't be so…_tempting. _After a few keystrokes, Nadia failed to repress a loud "ha!" as she laughed at the computer in triumph. Apparently, even evil masterminds still came up with incredibly shitty passwords.

"You got it?" Tig asked. She smiled, nodding her head in confirmation before turning the computer in his direction. A welcome screen was open on the computer. The guys quickly flocked towards it, except Happy who remained behind her.

"Knew I was goin' ta like this one," Chibs slapped her back, grinning from ear to ear.

Tig scanned through Weston's calendar intently, probably looking for some helpful clue to help them locate Zobelle. She wasn't sure what they really hoped to find though; people didn't exactly pencil things like "Tuesday: blow up minivan" or "Wednesday: walk around unprotected" in a calendar.

"EZ MCC?" Bobby asked while pointing at the screen.

"Ethan Zobelle" Tig supplied the first two letters.

"Mirada Christian Center" Clay finished.

"Ay," Chibs responded. "That's tonight."

"Sounds like our way in" Tig said.

"Sounds like a trap," Nadia countered, running her tongue along the inside of her teeth. Zobelle would have had to anticipate the MC's attempt to retaliate after the explosion. Something was off, unsettling. It was just too easy. In Nadia's experience, when intel came that easy it usually came with very hard consequences.

"This aint right," Jax shook his head doubtfully. All they find at the addresses Unser came up with for Weston and Zobelle is this computer which just happens to point them directly to their locations? He agreed with Nadia, it was too easy.

"I'm tired of sitting around talking about what ifs!" Clay spat angrily. "Zobelle has tried to kill two of us in _one_ day, this club doesn't wait! We kill him, NOW!"

He glowered at Jax, all but daring him to protest. Despite the barely contained hostility, Jax didn't say anything. Nadia assumed he recognized an argument he couldn't win when he saw it. Guess that meant they were running blindly off the cliff. There was no way Clay would listen to her if he wouldn't even listen to his VP. She glanced over her shoulder at Happy, hoping he would come out of whatever they were walking into unscathed.

"We move tonight." He added when no one challenged him.

"No one goes anywhere without an escort. _No one._" Clay said gruffly, including Nadia with a pointed look. His words were spoken absolutely, like someone not used to being told no. _Too bad_, Nadia thought as she watched the rest of the guys start to leave. She needed to see Fletcher, _today._ She always traveled alone and Fletcher knew it. If she tried to come into Oakland with an escort, she'd spook him. And knowing him, he'd be halfway to Mexico before sundown.

"Yea…not going to work…" Nadia began slowly, gauging their reactions. She had wasted enough time and wasn't going to wait another day. She'd crawl over eight very angry bikers if she had to.

"What?" Clay snapped, slowly turning around to face her. The rest of the guys stopped their progression out of the clubhouse, surprised expressions on their faces. She heard a low growl behind her as Happy took a step closer to her, apparently not pleased with her disobedience. Tough shit, Nadia thought as she mentally rolled her eyes. Did no one ever tell these guys no?

"Look, I have to meet a client out of town. And no offense, but needing an escort doesn't exactly scream "hire me to keep you safe".

Clay sighed; looking exasperated and annoyed as he quickly mulled it over. Jax shook his head in disapproval but didn't say anything, just watched Happy cautiously. The others shifted uncomfortably; except Tig. Tig was watching in obvious amusement.

"I said no offense," Nadia shrugged her shoulders in annoyance. She wasn't a part of their club and she sure as hell wasn't an old lady. She wasn't going to just "stay put" because someone asked her to and she didn't need their permission to leave.

"I can take care of myself." Nadia added, taking a step forward. Her patience was growing thin; she wasn't used to having to convince someone she didn't need protecting. Since when was her life this messy?

"Like hell" Happy barked behind her as he grabbed her roughly by the arm, his hand inadvertently latching tightly over her bandage. Nadia let him spin her around to face him, refusing to wince under his painful grip. His expression was menacing and wicked; he was seriously pissed. Nadia twisted her arm, pulling it forcibly out of his grasp. She felt warmth begin to trickle down her arm and immediately crossed her arms to avoid blood spilling out from under her jacket sleeve. Instead of taking a step back though, she took a step closer, situating herself mere inches from his face.

"You aren't leaving." Happy's voice was low.

"Yes I am." She responded. She _really_ liked Happy but she had priorities that right now, outranked playing nice.

"No" he growled.

"Do I need to prove it?" She asked, meeting his gaze head on. Her words were soft but threatening. Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to tell her what to do.

" 'kay, for now but be careful." Jax conceded, hoping to diffuse the situation. He cared about Nadia. She had made sacrifices for the club and already felt like part of the family. But he also realized there was no way she was going to stay put for more than five minutes after they left anyway. Better for Happy to keep watch on her at least while she was in town, instead of having Nadia sneak around vulnerable.

"Thanks," she muttered as she walked angrily out of the building. Did she really just receive temporary permission to live her life? She cursed under her breath, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Happy shot Jax a deadly glare, a look of pure rage washing over his features.

"You know she'd never have agreed to it," Gemma offered.

"I know," he grudgingly admitted before stalking after Nadia.

* * *

Nadia threw the bloodied dressing in the sink, cursing as she tried to wash the dried blood off her arm. She had torn a few stitches but her movements were hurried. She didn't want to spend any more time than necessary in Charming right now. Especially not with Happy sulking around her house, glaring murderously at her. Her temper spiked as she fumbled with the package of gauze, spilling it out onto the bathroom floor.

"Fuck!" She yelled, throwing the box at the wall. Her chest was rising rapidly, her hands shaking with adrenaline. She was angry but she also felt an unfamiliar emotion: guilt. She knew she had probably crossed some MC code of decorum for women but she just didn't care about that. She wasn't going to be bossed around and he had been a domineering ass. Just because they lived by some outdated notion that men got to be in charge didn't mean she was going to roll over and play the damsel in distress. She had responsibilities, ambitions, _someone_ to kill.

Unfortunately, what she did care about was that she had upset him. Which infuriated her even more than his display at the clubhouse had; since when had she become so tangled in someone else's life. It would make her weak.

She growled as the bathroom door flung open. Happy's eyes quickly darted from Nadia's arm to the mess on the counter, a brief emotion flickering across his features before he snarled angrily.

"Damn it Nadia." He made a move towards her, reaching for the gauze on the floor.

"Get out!" Nadia snapped. Realizing he wasn't moving, she tried to push by him no longer caring about replacing the bandage. She needed to get out of here. She wanted to be alone. Happy situated himself in the doorway, effectively blocking her exit with his larger frame.

"No one talks to me that way." His voice was soft. Lethal. A warning.

"You were being a fucking Neanderthal" Nadia spat back, struggling to control her temper. She didn't understand why she was so angry but all of a sudden she could barely rein it in. She took a deep breath before slamming her fist onto the bathroom counter, trying to regain some semblance of control. This wasn't her. She _never_ lost control. She had to calm down.

"Get out." She whispered.

"No." He replied.

"I can take care of myself. Get out." She repeated her earlier demand, her voice again crackling with rage.

"You're not bulletproof!" He snarled, grabbing Nadia's wrists and yanking her forward. His eyes darted angrily to her bleeding right arm.

"Why the fuck does it even matter to you!" Nadia shouted back, her words dying off at the end. She was exasperated. She was tired of being yelled at. He had known her for less than a week; that didn't give him a right to tell her how to live her life. She had been doing just fine up until now, _alone._

Nadia saw him flinch slightly, his eyes widening before an angry scowl washed over his face. He looked like he had been slapped. His hands tightened around her wrists painfully. "It doesn't" he snapped.

She stiffened, confused by his reaction. It had been so brief that Nadia wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't been standing so close to him but he was lying. It did matter. Had Gemma really been right? How could he care what happened to her? She bit her lip, unsure of what to do.

There was a novelty to the situation, fighting with someone who wasn't trying to kill her. While it was still infuriating as hell, it suddenly felt different. She felt her anger soften slightly as her arms went limp against Happy's hold. A brief look of confusion washed over his face, clearly surprised by her acquiescence. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to decide how to proceed.

"Happy," she breathed quietly, a worn edge to her voice. The grip on her wrists became slightly more lax as she leaned forward, resting her head against his chest. It felt overwhelmingly right which only made her more upset. She didn't want to need anyone else, a life alone was easier.

"Happy," she repeated, unsure of what else to say. She gave up fighting, confused by the onslaught of emotions and voices swirling in her head. Instinctively, she nestled tighter against his chest. His eyes bulged slightly, caught off guard by the gesture.

Remembering Gemma's earlier words, she placed a soft and hesitant kiss on his chest. The leather of his kutte felt cool beneath her lips. She knew what he needed.

"Nothing is going to happen to me today." She said softly. She chose her words carefully, not wanting to promise anymore than she could.

Happy released her wrists as the last words rolled off her tongue. And then he was on her. His hands running through her hair as he pulled her into a kiss. A kiss that was hard, demanding, passionate, and anything but easy. She groaned as he tugged her deeply into his chest; his body radiating heat and arousal. Her hands slid beneath his shirt, revealing in the hard muscular edges of his abs. Her body vibrated with need, _want;_ her earlier anger forgotten.

His hands still tangled in her hair, he pulled back slightly. She instantly missed the contact, her eyes fluttering open reluctantly.

"Nothing," he repeated, his lips brushing over hers as they moved.

**To be continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**I assume as fans of the show, most of you are comfortable to some extent with language/sex/violence in a story line. It is most certainly in mine and you've been warned. Hope you enjoy the new chapter, I put a lot of time into it!**

"Nothing," she promised; her voice barely a whisper. He nodded, pulling her back into his chest in a tight embrace. She let her eyes close, her fingers curling into the waist of his jeans. Her mind was quiet, completely absorbed in the intimacy of the moment. After a minute, Nadia felt his hand begin to run through her tangled hair, slowly exposing her shoulders.

Nadia inhaled sharply, her eyes flashing open, as he began to kiss the gradual curve of her shoulder. His lips lingered over the edge of her tattoo for a minute, his breath warm on her exposed skin. Gentle and slow. He worked his way up her neck; his stubble grazing across her smooth flesh. By the time he reached her jaw, she felt like she was on fire. Heat snaked out from her core, enveloping every inch of her body. Nadia felt the edges of her vision become hazy with lust; her body instinctively stretching closer to his. His unexpected tenderness felt deliberate, like he knew she needed it even before she did. She didn't usually gravitate towards _tender_ or _gentle_ in the bedroom but right now in her heightened emotional state, it was perfect. She felt calm; a stark contrast to her previous mood.

"Nadia," he breathed, the words torn from him as he pulled away again. Nadia's body protested immediately, her fingers tightening their hold. She saw his eyes settle upon the wound on her arm, guilt replacing desire. He reached behind her, his body flush against hers for all too brief a moment, before he pulled back, gauze in hand.

"Hap-," Nadia began to protest. She didn't need him to take care of her, she could fix it herself. He shook his head slightly, asking her to be quiet before pulling her injured arm towards him. After only a second of hesitation, she let him.

Nadia bit her tongue as he applied pressure over the long cut. She could feel the heat of his stare on her as she sat soundlessly, focused on a loose thread unraveling from the hem of his shirt. The fog in her brain lifted slightly as she registered her current situation. It was a peculiar sensation, having someone attend to her. She had sustained her fair share of bumps and bruises over the years but besides the occasional medical professional, had dealt with them on her own. Having Happy give her such close attention was equally unsettling and soothing. A significant part of her wanted to push him out the room and head for the hills.

The back of his hand grazed against her rib cage, drawing her attention back to him. He was wrapping a long bandage, slowly and meticulously around her arm.

"You still with me?" He asked, his deep voice filling the small room.

Nadia felt a genuine smile creep across her face. "Still with you," she replied. He nodded before running his free hand along one of the thicker lines of her tattoo. With her jacket removed, the tattoo was easily visible. It was an elaborate design, a richly patterned phoenix as the focal point. Geometric and floral designs surrounded the bird, draping over the front and back of her shoulder. It was black and white, save for the brilliant red wings of the phoenix.

"What's the story?" Happy asked, his gaze lingering on a red wing as he removed his hand to tuck the end of the bandage securely under itself.

Her mood instantly sobered at the intimate question. Nerves dispelled lust as she struggled to find an appropriate answer besides the truth. The tattoo was significantly tied to her life, her past. _Normally_, she just lied about those two things. It wasn't that she was ashamed of it or even bothered by it, but her past was her own. Sharing it with someone seemed too intimate, too permanent. Aside from Fletcher, most people didn't know a lot about her and she liked it that way. It made it less painful to leave when she inevitably had to and it made her less vulnerable. Fletcher knew mostly out of necessity and because he had actually been there when she got most of the scars on her body, particularly the older ones. The only scar he didn't know about would be the newest addition that ran across her back: a gift from a rancorous guard in North Korea.

Happy reached out, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. She hadn't answered for nearly two minutes. At the suspicious look on his face Nadia suddenly felt guilty, like it would be dirty to lie to him.

"Just thought it was pretty," she eventually managed to mutter, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. Since when did she have a problem with a lie? She lied for a _living,_ at least she used uncomfortable with the implications, Nadia hopped off the counter quickly but not before she caught sight of his expression. It was an expression that clearly said 'bullshit.'

"I should go," she said, making for the door. She should be halfway to Oakland, not babbling like an idiot in the bathroom with Happy. Remembering why she was even in the current situation, she paused in the entryway. He had been worried about her which seemed almost comical considering the situation. He was the one that was prepared to follow his club blindly off the cliff. If anyone needed to be careful tonight, it was him.

"Happy?" She hesitated, not wanting to leave without saying _something._

"Yea?" His dark eyes turned to watch her.

"You're not bulletproof either."

A wolfish grin spread across his face as he shook his head in disbelief. "You worried about me woman?" He asked.

"No," Nadia answered while simultaneously making plans to be back in Charming before 8:00 p.m. It wouldn't hurt to be nearby, _just in case_.

"And don't call me woman." She added as she walked away.

* * *

'Pretty?' Nadia cringed as she slammed her car into fourth gear. "Fabulous," Nadia sighed at her lame explanation. She was definitely losing it. She blew her horn at a slowing truck, veering into the adjacent lane to pass it. How hard was it to just act like a normal person around _one_ guy? Yes, one very hot and distracting guy but still just _one._ A string of colorful curses flew through her mind as she grew more and more flustered by both traffic and her behavior. Did no one in the state of California actually _know_ how to drive?

A Jeep cut her off, its passenger hanging out the window to flip her off. Nadia's hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. "_Don't shoot him, don't shoot him"_ she chanted through gritted teeth. He hollered something lewd at her before they continued recklessly down the highway, cutting several other cars off as they proceeded. "_Don't shoot him?" _Her chant became less sure as she became more irritated. Her temper was still fresh from the morning. "Morons," Nadia snapped as the Jeep caused a minivan to nearly swerve off the road.

Suddenly, a string of brake lights came into view, traffic at a near standstill about a mile down the road. The exit for Oakland was situated a quarter mile in front of the last set of slowly moving cars. A grassy ditch ran alongside the right side of the highway beginning a few hundred yards before the exit.

"Fuck it," she downshifted, changing lanes to pursue the Jeep. Situating herself in the lane next to it, she rolled her eyes as they hung out the window yelling wildly, clearly intoxicated. She wasn't even sure she was going to feel bad about this. The Oakland exit was only a few feet away now and traffic began to slow as they neared the traffic jam.

At the last second, she pulled in front of the Jeep, braking hard before accelerating down the exit ramp. The Jeep's brakes squealed; it's back fishtailing wildly as its rear wheel drive tried to compensate. Nadia felt a near immoral satisfaction as the Jeep finally slid off the road, grinding to a halt in the ditch.

"Oops," she shrugged her shoulder innocently as she saw the car's passengers scream angrily out of their crashed vehicle at her. She continued towards her destination, feeling suddenly more at ease.

Eventually, a street sign for Jasper Drive came into view, bringing thoughts of Fletcher with it. A smile stretched across her face as she looked out the window, clicking off numbers in her head. _1129, 1130, 1131..._ In spite of the situation, she was genuinely excited to see him. In addition to being a contact and ex-partner, Fletcher was the closest and only friend Nadia had. Despite the fact that they were both equally stubborn and solitary people, they had developed a strong relationship in the almost twelve years they had known each other. Since they were a part of the same world, it had been easy. There weren't any explanations to be given, any lies to be told, any sacrifices to be made. No one wanted _more._

She had first met Fletcher when she only nineteen. Fletcher had, not so accidentally, pissed off a very dangerous Russian mobster. A mobster, she incidentally had been hired to kill. After that, they had almost immediately evolved into partners and eventual friends. They had a bizarre relationship, both incredibly distant and incredibly close, but it worked. There were periods when they didn't interact for weeks at a time and months where they lived out of the same houses, waiting for new jobs and searching for marks. They watched out for each other, cared and even held a platonic love for each other. They shared memories, nightmares, and a whole history together but also came and went freely out of the other's life. They both valued their independence and respected that for each other, never pushing too close.

Nadia shook her head as she finally pulled in front of the address Fletcher had given her. It was an abandoned looking warehouse, isolated in an old business district. As long as it had an electrical outlet, he'd live there. She smiled faintly as she walked up a gravel path, remembering all the bizarre places Fletcher had chosen to live over the years.

She brought her hand up to a steel framed door, preparing to knock. Instead of making contact, her hand met only empty space as the door swung open. Of course he had been watching her approach, had probably been watching her since she arrived in Oakland, maybe even before.

Her heart clenched as he appeared in the doorway, a lopsided grin already plastered on his face. She sucked in a breath, the surrealism of the moment hitting her. She had really missed him. In the last four years she had thought about him a lot but hadn't expected to get to see him again. It felt good to have him standing in front of her, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He hadn't changed much in those four years. Sure his hair was shorter; his dark wild locks traded for a close shave, but otherwise he was exactly how she remembered. He was still Fletcher: handsome, lean, and permanently smiling. 'Apparently still perpetually underdressed too,' Nadia thought. He was shirtless, exposing a well conditioned physique, and not wearing any shoes. Despite Fletcher's adamant conviction that eating food that "tasted like a shit sandwich without the bread with a side of shit" was a waste of time because he was going to die anyway, he had always been in excellent shape. Since she had never actually seen him work out and he lived mostly off of coffee, she had just always assumed the physique was the product of excellent genes. He _had_ to have good genes or otherwise he would have died of a heart attack back at age eighteen.

"Did ya know the shells of cashews are toxic?" He asked, scratching his bare chest. The movement drew Nadia's attention to a familiar jagged scar. It began at the tip of his right shoulder and ran along the length of his chest, winding a path diagonally across his frame. It stopped abruptly below his left pectoral muscle, a colorful dragon tattoo obscuring its concluding path just below. She shuddered at the reminder, the two scars along her own shoulder burning at their shared memory.

"Caustic," he continued, talking more to himself than to her.

"Yes that's an appropriate greeting." She replied dryly, a smile creeping up the corners of her lips. He definitely was still the same Fletcher.

His grin grew as he chuckled lightly. Instead of saying anything else though, he just reached forward and pulled her inside.

"Phone?" he asked, holding Nadia's arms out so he could scan her for bugs.

"Of course not," Nadia replied. She knew better than to bring an outside cell phone near Fletcher. He was convinced that the government was constantly monitoring him through them, which given his history might actually not be so farfetched. She had never actually seen him use a phone but he did send her information via text message occasionally. She assumed it was better not to ask about the inconsistency lest she either receive a forty minute lecture about the dangers of Big Brother or a five hour demonstration on how to properly secure a cell line.

"You can buy other nuts with shells, but not cashews." He furrowed his brow as he concentrated on the gadget in his hand. He tossed it nonchalantly over his shoulder, apparently deciding it was useless before pulling two different, smaller devices out of a bin situated on the floor.

"Hmm" Nadia hummed, waiting for him to be finished. She knew he wouldn't actually acknowledge their relationship until he was sure no one was listening; never did. He claimed he wanted to prevent emotional leverage. Fletcher had rituals, habits that kept him sane and while she thought some of his methods were over the top, she was happy to humor him. It was hard to argue that being too careful was a problem in their world.

"Takes 850 peanuts to make an 18 oz. jar of peanut butter…" He muttered as he tossed the devices back in the bin, clearly not concerned with breaking them. He completed a few more tasks: some basic and some downright bizarre. If someone had bugged her hair, the whole world was seriously more screwed up than she was giving it credit for.

"Mouth"

Nadia shook her head at the demand before opening. He ran a light along her teeth, inspecting them carefully before finally shutting it off. He tossed the flashlight over his shoulder in a similar fashion to the previous scanners. Without delay, his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. Nadia braced herself for the bear hug she knew was coming. As expected, he picked her swiftly off her feet, pulling her into an almost painfully tight hug.

"Missed you freak" he said through a huge grin as he swung her gently from side to side.

"You too dork" Nadia replied with more emotion than she had intended. After a minute, Fletcher set her down and kissed her softly on the forehead before pulling her back into a hug. For an indeterminable amount of time, they stood there like that. Old friends reunited; Fletcher resting his chin atop her head, Nadia feeling completely at ease. Eventually he released her. He took a few steps back, his goofy grin returning to his face as he spun on his heel to walk down the hallway.

"Knew you couldn't die. You're like a freaking cockroach!" he grinned over his shoulder as he gestured for her to follow. She shook her head before trailing after him. She knew it was meant as a compliment, a reference to some fact that he had told her once about cockroaches being able to survive a nuclear holocaust. Despite the intention, like most of Fletcher's compliments it didn't feel like one.

"Well that's just about the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me Fletch." She drawled sarcastically.

"I know," he sighed in mock pride. "Pretty face, great ass, and sweet. I'm quite the catch."

"Who told you that you had a great ass?" Nadia asked skeptically, pretending to look it over.

He spun around, trying to get a look at it. "Really?" He sounded hurt for a second before a mischievous glint flickered in his eye. "Your mom liked it…"

"I will hit you Fletcher." Nadia warned.

"Maybe later," his eyes widened suggestively before he continued down the hallway. She just shook her head, laughing noiselessly as she followed him into a large open room. A series of oversized paneled windows were open along the wall, a few with broken or missing pieces. Light spilled into the otherwise dark room, illuminating a towering stack of bound newspapers situated against the farthest wall. A bed, at least a mattress, was placed in the middle of the room across from a long table. Several expensive looking monitors sat on the table along with keyboards and a few devices she had no clue what where. A mess of wires protruded from beneath the table, plugged into various outlets around the room. Two laptops sat forgotten on the floor and a TV was on, playing a documentary about nuts. Only Fletcher could find a documentary about nuts interesting. Once he had watched a three part series about basket weaving, _straight through_.

"Took you long enough to come see me," he noted as he leaned against the desk. Despite the implication the words might have held, his tone was soft. She didn't think he was really upset, probably more aggravated she hadn't asked for his help sooner. It was a familiar fight, Nadia trying to protect him while he tried to protect her. She _had_ wanted to contact him before the other day but couldn't find a good enough reason to justify the risk. She loved him and didn't want to put him in danger just because she missed him. Unfortunately, circumstances had pushed her hand early. If anything happened to him because of Sam, she'd take everything that bastard had ever cared about and burn it to the fucking ground.

"I didn't know if they were watching me, I didn't want to drag you into my mess Fletch." She pleaded sincerely. He sighed shaking his head.

"I'm your friend Nadia _not_ your responsibility. Our friendship is my decision; you don't drag me into shit." He said emphatically, emotion backing the familiar words.

"Your mess is mine anyway damn it," he muttered before dragging the folding chair out from beneath the desk. It scratched across the floor loudly, the noise reverberating through the open room.

She felt her shoulders deflate. She didn't agree but she was touched by the intensity of Fletcher's loyalty. "I'm sorry," she conceded, hoping to return the smile to his face. She'd do it again to keep him safe. She also was well aware, that _he'd_ have done it to keep her safe.

His head snapped up, watching her suspiciously. After a minute, he smiled. "No you're not but I forgive you anyway." He considered her for a second, his hands intertwined in his lap.

"You got stabbed." He looked to her right arm, the wound covered by her jacket sleeve.

"Yea I remember, I was _there.._." She wasn't really surprised he knew. She had checked into St. Thomas after all, if he was looking out for her he'd have seen it. Trying to hide something from Fletcher was nearly impossible anyway; it was why he was good at finding people. He saw what no one else did.

"You don't make many friends do you?"

"Oh come on, people love me."

"You're right" he said dryly. He titled his head towards the ceiling, pretending to think about something. "You know I think I read in Cosmo that if someone stabs you, it actually means they love you."

"See," Nadia said emphatically, playing along. "I have _lots_ of admirers! I've been stabbed _at least_ three times. I'm a freaking people person."

He shook his head in agreement. "Totally right. My mistake."

"You get any dirt on those guys?" Nadia asked, suddenly curious. No way hadn't Fletcher looked in to where the wound came from.

He smiled, confirming her suspicion. "King whitey is selling guns to the Mexicans that he receives from a friendly little group known as the IRA."

"Ethan Zobelle?" Nadia asked incredulously. There was no way.

He nodded his head, turning to one of the monitors. "Greed trumps principle every time."

Nadia was astounded. Even if it was true, she didn't think Weston knew. The guy practically reeked of "doctrine" and "strict principle". He would probably cut his own arm off and eat it if you told him it would help the Aryan cause.

"Here," Fletcher gestured to an open picture on the closest monitor. It was Zobelle shaking hands with a Mexican biker, a Mayan patch on his back. "Where's that?" Nadia asked, pointing to the patch. She didn't recognize the name but that didn't mean much. Bikers and spies didn't cross worlds terribly often. Besides the Sons of Anarchy in Ireland, she had never interacted with another MC.

"Right here in Oakie." He shook his head as he said it, the words spoken like a southern belle.

"Nice job." This could be the leverage the Sons needed and the break she wanted. The Aryans were drawing too much attention to her and away from the things she'd prefer to focus on.

"Did you ever doubt me?"

"Always." Nadia replied instantly.

"So what's your plan with these guys?" Fletcher asked, ignoring the jibe.

"What makes you think I have a plan?" Nadia asked, feigning innocence.

"Oh come on." He rolled his eyes. "Like you weren't thinking it'd be the perfect opportunity to ruin some Nazi's day. We both know they are in your way and that you don't want to leave Charming."

Nadia started to protest but Fletcher cut her off with just a look.

"Normally, you'd just kill them or leave and we both know it. Which means something, or _someone_, has you turning the other cheek." He explained.

"And before you start telling me why I'm wrong…" He began with a pointed look. Nadia bristled at the accuracy of his statement. 'Insightful pain in the ass,' she thought.

"_If _you are happy, which you do actually deserve to be….stay put. I'll watch your back."

"Got questioned at the police station too…" Fletcher continued immediately, not allowing her a chance to protest any further.

"It wasn't intentional." She argued.

"ATF ran your name, Burlachenko as a last."

"Yea, I gathered. Anyone notice?" She already knew the answer with a fair degree of certainty. If anyone had somehow managed to connect two and two, she'd be dead.

"Not for now." He abruptly looked curious.

"What did you do to the guy with the dislocated arm? Had a laundry list of injuries…"

"Among other things, I may have thrown him through a window..." Nadia admitted reluctantly.

"You may have?" Fletcher asked in amazement. "Jesus you freak, didn't anyone ever tell you to act like a lady."

"Yea, right after I kneed him in the balls."

"Point taken," Fletcher replied quickly. He was already typing away, searching for something else on the computer.

"So…I need to find Sam," Nadia started hesitantly. She wasn't sure how pleased Fletcher would be with the idea. When she had first accepted employment at the firm, Fletcher had been adamantly against it. He believed that Sam couldn't be trusted, which much to her chagrin had been an accurate judgment. They respected each other's decisions though, and after he had said his piece, he had let it go. She knew his opinion hadn't changed but he had never brought it up again.

"Yea I know," he said softly, a picture of Sam already on the computer. "Been watching the fat bastard 24/7 since you escaped…going to be difficult to reach him"

Nadia moved to stand behind him, getting a clearer image of the screen. Nadia involuntarily recoiled as she saw Sam staring back at her. Fletcher shifted, slouching in the seat.

"Fletcher?" Nadia asked. He didn't respond so she took a few steps away from him, providing herself with a clearer view. She smiled grimly as she noticed the change in his demeanor. He looked uncharacteristically distant, lost in thought.

"Fletch?"

"I'm sorry," he blurted with a pained expression on his face. Her eyes widened in surprise and confusion.

"I looked for you after you disappeared, tracked you, followed you…" his voice cut off momentarily. Before Nadia could protest he spoke again.

"I couldn't do anything by the time I figured it out." The last words were spoken with such hate and shame that Nadia was almost overcome with emotion. Her loathing for Sam and the firm increased tenfold as she watched the guilt on Fletcher's face. Determined, she walked to stand directly behind him.

"It's not your fault Fletch." She said firmly before wrapping her arms gently around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder, leaning her head against his. He shook his head doubtfully but didn't protest. Instead, he untangled her arms, placing a chaste kiss on each of her palms before releasing her entirely.

"Grab me some coffee will ya," he pointed towards an open door, ending the conversation.

"How many have you already had?" She questioned, fully aware that it had probably been an exorbitant amount. If she had the same amount of caffeine he did, she wouldn't sleep for a week. Once she had even tried changing his coffee for a decaffeinated blend to see if he would notice. He had known before he even tasted it, smiling at her as he poured the whole pot down the sink. He had later also thrown the entire bag of coffee grounds out of the window of the tenth story apartment he lived in at the time.

He rolled his eyes, more amused than annoyed, before answering. "Just a pot…now bring it here before something bad accidentally happens to you." He turned his attention back to the computer.

"Oh is that a threat?" Nadia backed away, pretending to be scared as she moved towards the door.

"Of course it is." Fletcher responded, shrugging his head back like it was obvious. "What? Did I do it badly?" He asked suddenly looking concerned. "More gusto? Not enough scowling?"

"Yes definitely more scowling..." He decided, immediately setting his face in a ridiculous frown as he stared at the computer.

"I'm shocked to my very core. Threatening a woman…" Nadia clicked her tongue in disapproval as she disappeared into what, might have at some time, been a walk-in cooler. Now apparently it was a kitchen/closet/shove all your useless shit into room.

"Just assuring your compliance my dear, can't have no sass." She heard him call as she stepped over another pile of newspapers to reach the coffee maker. She banged her knee on a wooden desk, a nasty curse leaving her mouth as she hobbled in pain.

"Hey! Keep it PG asshole." Fletcher called from the other room. She gritted, resisting the urge to retort as she rubbed her knee.

The coffee was already brewed, a pitiful Styrofoam cup next to it. Nadia opened several makeshift cabinets, looking for a glass as she maneuvered around stacks of newspapers, piles of books, and various boxes.

"You actually need all this stuff?" Nadia called, growing annoyed at having to constantly dance around mountains of junk. Part of a motor was sitting in front of a refrigerator, an actual rubber duck on it. _A rubber duck._

"Nope," He responded. She huffed as she looked around the room, at a loss for what the hell Fletcher was using to drink and eat on.

"You growin' that coffee in there?" Fletcher called. She could practically hear the shit eating grin on his face. He _loved_ trying to rile her up.

"Yea, planting it right next to shut the fuck up and across from kiss my ass."

He responded with a deep, full-bodied laugh.

"Styrofoam cup" He supplied the answer to her unspoken question.

Nadia raised an eyebrow, her gaze returning to the mentioned cup. It was heavily used, duct tape holding it together in places. He did know those were disposable right?

"Really?" She sat the coffee in front of him.

"Efficiency Nadia," he rolled his eyes like it was completely normal to eternally reuse a disposable cup.

"Did you know…" he began.

"No but I'm sure I'm about to," Nadia cut in.

Unfazed by her interruption, Fletcher continued. "If you threw away a Styrofoam cup today, it'd still be present in five hundred years in a landfill…"

Nadia smiled. Of course there was a fact to back up his ridiculous lack of appropriate dishware.

"So buy a glass cup." Nadia suggested, knowing how useless it was to convince Fletcher to do anything he didn't want to do.

He looked at her like she was insane. "But I already have this one?"

Nadia laughed, "Right…you know you are crazy?"

Fletcher grinned, "It's a good thing I'm so beautiful then." She shook her head, pulling a list out of her back pocket.

"So where is Sam now? You said he'd be difficult to reach?" She asked remembering his previous statement. A series of live camera feeds were opened on a screen, a few still photos of Sam peaking out behind them.

"Dunno exactly, he was in Miami but it looks like he left this morning." Nadia stilled.

"Think he knows?" She asked apprehensively.

"Nah, I'd know if he knew. For a _retired_ evil dick, he still does some pretty sketchy stuff on the side."

"Define sketchy?"

"Sketchy: someone or something that gives off a bad feeling. Of dubious character. Suspicious. Da-"

She popped him on the back of the head, "you know what I meant genius."

He laughed, amusement wrinkling his eyes, before sobering. "That's where the "difficult to reach" part comes in. When he isn't sitting around depriving the earth of oxygen, he works part time for the Galindo cartel. Keeps palms greased and wallets lined. He travels around occasionally to meet with the schmucks on the payroll."

"It'll take me a few minutes to find out which unlucky bastard is selling his soul today."

"Shit…" Nadia rubbed her temples in frustration. She was trying to find answers, not accidently provoke the wrath of one of the most dangerous and notorious cartels in the western hemisphere. This _definitely_ complicated things. The way she figured it, she had three choices now. She could make it look like an accident, turn the cartel against Sam, or find a way to remove the cartel entirely from the equation. Whatever she did, this just became a very long game.

"So much for a quick bullet in the head and happily ever after" Nadia smiled weakly.

"Yea," Fletcher nodded in agreement.

"Look." Fletcher leveled a serious stare at her. "If you want to go after him, I'll follow you straight into the mouth of hell babe. You know that."

"It's not your problem; will probably end bad and bloody." She warned.

"Well I didn't think _we_ were going to end nicely anyway." He said, shrugging his shoulder. "And stop saying it's not my problem. I'm not going to let you have all the fun you lil freak; I'll tail your ass all over this continent if you say no."

"Fine dumbass, come get blown up with me." She realized she was beat. Fletcher could be excessively stubborn when he wanted to be. Which honestly was what, like 99.9% of the time? Besides, with the cartel involved, she really could use his help. They'd need a _really_ well executed plan to pull this off in one piece. She didn't want to risk any collateral damage running in blind. The firm had always dealt in individuals but cartels operated on the "kill anyone you ever smiled at" principle. Which given her brief, but involved, relationship with the Sons of Anarchy, meant Charming was possibly at risk if she messed this up. There was no way the Sons had the fire power or resources to survive that kind of war. She wouldn't be able to protect Happy or any of them for that matter. The idea that something might happen to Happy because of her, seriously bothered her, maybe even scared her.

"Good smartass." He beamed with triumph.

"So, I say we gather more information; find a way to get in and out cleanly so that my pretty little head doesn't end up on a stake. Maybe work a different angle for now…"

"Do they actually do that?" Nadia asked.

"Saw it in a movie once…it could happen"

"Don't worry; I won't let them kill you…" Nadia promised. "Can't cash in on that life insurance policy unless it looks like an accident…"

He stilled, looking down at the coffee she had brought him suspiciously. She kept a straight face, handing him the folded list she had been holding in her hand.

"What's this?" He unfolded it, intently perusing the contents. "Real names or aliases?" Fletcher asked realizing what it was before she answered.

"Mostly real names, don't know who is still alive or employed…"

"Think any of them can help?" Fletcher asked, setting his coffee down.

"I don't know really," Nadia stated truthfully. Besides Sam, she didn't know who else had been involved. Since Sam was her boss, and the trigger man, she knew he was the instigator. Aiden Marks, the firm's current leader and Sam's previous lap dog, would most likely have been involved as well. There wasn't a shot or a shit that Sam took that Marks wasn't privy to. But even if the two of them had been working together, hammering the nail into her coffin, they still couldn't have pulled it off themselves. It was too well executed, too orchestrated. She had been _traded_ to the North Koreans. Others at Jacob & Avakov would have had to have known what it was they were bartering with.

At the same time, it wasn't exactly recruiting gold to let other employees know that they were expendable. They had set her up, tried to kill her, and then when they failed, had handed her to the North Korean government as a spy. It doesn't really scream: 'great retirement plan come join'.

"I'll see what I can do." He spun around to the computer, list in hand.

"Do it quietly," Nadia suggested. They'd have to be careful targeting anyone on the list that ended up still being employed. If Sam and Marks were still connected, which they presumably were, it might get back to Sam that she was looking. Without the element of surprise, there was a significant shift in advantage, _out of her favor._

"Oh and Nadia," He turned again, remembering something. "You should really work on that road rage." His face was stern but his eyes were amused.

"They started it" she protested.

"Yea and you finished it." He laughed before turning back to the screen. She flopped back on to his mattress, instantly sinking into the inviting and soft surface. Things were quickly turning out to be more complicated than she had anticipated. She suspected Sam was going to be difficult to reach but under the wing of a cartel, he was just plain _out_ of reach. She needed a way in but it was going to take time. With Fletcher on her side, she'd have the time she needed as long as nothing else went wrong. She tried to ignore the building anxiety as she realized she'd be staying in Charming for longer than she had anticipated. Despite all the curveballs, her original plan was still the best _if_ she could remove Zobelle from the equation. If the Sons didn't take care of it tonight, she'd have to intervene. Despite her constants attempts to deny it, Fletcher was right. She _did_ want to stay put. It was reckless and uncharacteristic but she didn't seem able to do anything about it. While she still thought it was best to keep some distance between her and Happy, it wasn't smart to let someone else have the upper hand in Charming. Since she seemed to be staying put, it was best to do it on her own terms.

"Yes yes, make yourself at home." Fletcher muttered sarcastically, furiously typing as he watched several monitors at once.

"I already did." Nadia yawned, feeling sleepy.

"Hey, Nadia" Fletcher said after a few minutes of vigilant work. Hearing no reply, he turned around in his chair. He stopped when he saw her, concern erasing his previous train of thought completely from his mind. In the twelve years he had known Nadia, she had never been one to accidentally fall asleep.

_Nadia felt a tremor rack her body as a cold wind blew through the open window in her cell. She looked up, a tree line just visible from her low angle. She huddled closer to the wall, wrapping her hands tightly around her knees for warmth. The small reprieve the movement provided quickly faded as the stone walls absorbed her remaining body heat. _

_Movement caught Nadia's attention, her eyes snapping open, immediately alert. Two guards were standing in her cell, the closest one sporting a vengeful look beneath his swollen and black eye. A flash of silver caught her eye; a long narrow blade sliding out from beneath his sleeve. They were here for revenge; an eye for an eye. _

_She stood up, refusing to succumb to the cold. Her muscles instinctively tightened, bracing for the battle to come. If she was going down, at least one of them was coming with her. _

Nadia jolted upright, instantly taking a defensive posture. Her mind struggled to shake its dreamy haze as she looked around the unfamiliar room.

"Nadia," Fletcher said gently.

"Fletcher?" Nadia asked, her mind concentrating on the familiar voice. He was crouched next to her, his knee on the edge of the mattress. A concerned frown had replaced his usually goofy grin.

"How long was I out?" Her voice was still thick with sleep. She rubbed her neck, a tight muscle burning from the unnatural position she had fallen asleep in.

He hesitated before answering. "Nearly six hours."

Her eyes instantly darted in disbelief to the line of windows against the adjacent wall. Instead of light streaming through them as it had previously, there was only darkness. She had slept for _six hours? _

"You ok?" He asked, still bent over next to her. His eyes roamed over her, searching for something.

"Yea, I think…why?" She swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, pushing a blanket off of her. She looked at it curiously as she moved it to the side; she didn't remember it being there before. She figured it had been Fletcher but it should have woken her up. It was uncharacteristic for her to fall asleep so unintentionally and so heavily.

"Nothing" He replied, unconvincingly. "Come on, you need to see this." He held out his hand, helping her off the mattress.

"What?" Nadia demanded as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Five pictures, faces she recognized, were open on one of the screens. They were field agents and administrative personnel from the firm, three of whom she had personally met and worked with directly.

He led her by the hand, gesturing for her to sit in the seat. "So I started eliminating dead employees, figured they would be the least helpful sources of information…" He started to explain, leaning against the desk to watch her carefully.

"Ok…"

"These five employees," Fletcher gestured to each face on the screen. "Are dead."

"That's…that's not that unusual Fletcher." She shook her head, not seeing any relevance. Spies, even private-sector spies, often had shortened life spans. In four years, mistakes were bound to have been made. It was just part of the deal when one dealt with the bad of the bad.

"No." Fletcher admitted. "But this is…" He reached in front of her to click a few keys, various newspaper articles and documents appearing on the screen.

"All five of them died within six months of Sam shooting you."

Nadia's heart fluttered painfully in her throat. That was an awfully short time-frame to lose five employees.

"What….How?"

"Car accident; heart attack; home invasion; car accident; and suicide" Fletcher rattled off the causes pointing to the corresponding victims. Nadia leaned over the desk, rapping her nails against the wood surface.

"Big coincidence?" She asked Fletcher, trying to digest the information. It seemed odd that not a single one of them had died while actually working. Six months was an improbably short time for that many non-work related deaths.

"Very big" Fletcher twisted, stretching as he intertwined his hands behind his head.

Nadia shook her head. She was missing _something._ "What's the connection though? I only know three of these people and even then, I only worked with them a handful of times."

"Not clear…BUT" He shifted another monitor to face her, tapping a few keys in quick succession.

"On a hunch, I began backlogging security footage, flight manifests, police reports, Sam's schedule at the time, even the damn traffic cameras at the time of these five _accidents._"

Nadia turned at the sarcasm surrounding the word "accident". She recognized the look in his eye. He had a theory, or at least the beginnings of one.

"Okay, so take this guy." Fletcher pointed to an image of Alexis Delon, a French sniper that had been recruited around the same time as Nadia. She had worked with him on a handful of mismatched cases over the years, nothing particularly significant though.

"He was in a car wreck on March 21st in Paris at midnight…in between jobs most likely. Here is a security camera on the Pont Neuf that same day." He pointed to a grainy photo on the screen. Even with the poor clarity, it was clearly Sam.

"Stamped at 10:30 p.m."

"So?" It was a coincidence to be sure, but still _just_ a coincidence.

"Ah," His eyes lit up. "And here…" Another picture appeared on the screen. It was a young woman, a forensic accountant that Nadia had never met before.

"Our last victim, Samantha Roberts, died in New York during an apparent robbery on May 30th. Sam's schedule _and_ credit card receipts put him in Chicago at the time of the murder."

"However, a security camera outside a bank, two blocks from her New York apartment, caught this image ten minutes after the police were called."

Nadia strained, leaning forward in the chair to get a better look at the individual in the photo. "That could be anybody Fletcher…" The man was wearing a hat, pulled low to cover his face.

"Look at his wrist Nadia." Fletcher pulled up both images, side by side.

"Holy shit," Nadia whispered. She immediately recognized the gaudy gold watch on his wrist. It was not only the same one he was wearing in the photo from Paris, it was the same one he always wore. That was, without a doubt, Sam.

"And the others?" She asked.

Fletcher shook his head, looking frustrated. "Nothing yet but there's a good chance they are related."

"People die of natural causes Fletch. Odds say one of these _could_ be a coincidence."

"Yes I'm well aware of the exact odds actually but they don't matter." He waved her doubts off with a quick flick of his wrist.

"And why not?"

"That is the good, bad, and just plain freaky part."

"All five bodies were scheduled to be autopsied stateside, in New York by _the same coroner._"

"At the request of our favorite pernicious sack of shit"

"Sam…" Nadia ascertained.

Fletcher confirmed with a nod of the head. The firm wouldn't care who performed an autopsy if an agent died of natural causes. Most likely, they'd be autopsied in whatever city they actually died in. The only reason they'd intervene and send all five bodies to the same coroner is if that coroner was special. Special as in bribed, threatened, and/or on the payroll. Question is what the coroner was choosing to overlook. It certainly connected the deaths to each other, but it didn't connect them to her.

"There still isn't a connection to _me._" Nadia pointed out. She didn't know but three out of the five, she couldn't think of any conceivable reason Sam would need to get rid of all six of them. Besides, he hadn't killed her; he had tried and then condemned her to an interminable life in prison.

"Maybe… maybe not but the time line is unlikely for Sam to try and eliminate six of his own employees without a connection somewhere."

"It's there Nadia. We just don't know what it is yet." He added with absolute certainty.

Nadia dragged her hand across her face, frustrated. She sighed, staring at the five faces on the screen. He was probably right but no matter how hard she racked her brain, she just couldn't see it. If Sam had killed these five people because of something they all knew, why didn't he just try and kill her again after she survived the gunshot. Something didn't add up but lately, it seemed like nothing did.

"Is the coroner still alive?" Nadia asked, trying to approach the situation from a new and possibly quicker angle.

"Sophia Smith? Might as well be dead…she is in London."

"Firm's backyard" She acknowledge grimly. They'd never cross foot in London without them knowing. There were too many cameras in a city like that, someone would see _something_. Her identity might be clean but her face wasn't. Still, there had to be something they could do. Coming up against so many brick walls was frustrating. A lot had happened in the four years she had been gone; a lot to complicate figuring out what had happened to land her in a North Korean prison recovering from "friendly" fire.

"If you are actually considering waltzing into London to find this woman…" he shook his head in disapproval. "I'm afraid I'm going to be busy. I have to drive a tank filled with gold out of Fort Knox that day…"

She ignored him, an idea rolling over in her mind. "Remember that job we did in Budapest?"

"…the guy that looked like Al Pacino?" Fletcher asked with a brief look of confusion. As his mind put two and two together, a satisfied grin settled on his face. "I like it…if you can't reach 'em, bring 'em to you."

"Exactly," she agreed.

"Crap, what time is it?" Nadia asked, suddenly anxious. She had been so disoriented when she woke up and then distracted by the new information that she hadn't even thought about what time it was. It had to be close to 6:00 already, the club would be making their move on Zobelle soon.

"Um…" Fletcher spun back towards the computer. "7:15"

"Shit, I have to go." Nadia gestured to a USB drive in Fletcher's hand.

"Somewhere you need to be?" He gave her a curious look as he uploaded files to the storage drive.  
"Yea…" Nadia admitted after hesitating. Whatever her reservations regarding Happy were, she knew she would never forgive herself if something happened to him. If things went south tonight, she wanted to be close by.

"Alright, be safe freak." He grinned, tossing her a USB. "I'll keep looking."

"Thanks dork. I'll start working on a plan for the coroner…you come up with a better one."

**Hey, I just want to say thank you to everyone that is reading my story. I really appreciate the reviews, l know a few of you have left multiple. **

**I've been toying with the idea of going back after and writing a few scenes from happy's perspective- kind of explaining the thoughts he is having, reactions, etc. if you guys are interested down the road.**


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